Uplifted: Integration
by DarkDanny
Summary: With a Galactic Crusade on the horizon and a return back to the galaxy imminent, these are the final years of peace before the Quarian people crawl out of their exile and begin their long march across the Council Space with the aid of the Reich and with one destination on their mind: Home. God forgive anyone who stands in their way, because the children of Rannoch will not.
1. Adam Ackerson

**Welcome back!**

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**Chapter One: Adam Ackerson  
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_**The **__**_Königsberg_ Journal September 3**__**rd**__**, 1998**_

_**Point Zero Training Operation Underway Despite Europe-Wide Protests**_

_**By Selene Göbel**_

_Representatives within the __ Raumstreitflotte High Command have announced a series of cooperative naval drills with the Quarian Navy in preparation for the long promised war against the geth. Among them shall be delegates from the ten nations of the German led European Security Union as well as from the Republic of China and the Russian Federation._

"_The coming war cannot be decided on the sacrifice of the German and Quarian peoples alone," said Representative of the ___Raumstreitflotte _Kurt von Jahnke. "Nations who have directly benefited from the technological progress offered by the quarians and the physical protection of the Germany from both the Fascist Union of Nations and the Soviet Union must be held accountable to the debts they owe. We welcome their enthusiastic offer to join our grand struggle. It was an offer that was not only voluntarily, but with open arms, out of respect to our quarian cousins..."_

_The announcement of foreign national delegates sparked outrage and protests across Europe –most notably in Brussels, Paris, Amsterdam, Copenhagen and Prague, where demonstrators have taken to the streets in the tens of thousands, shouting anti-Reich slogans. A total of nine hundred protestors have been arrested and residents of the nations in question are tonight living in fear of potential German retaliation for the inflammatory actions._

_The fear, however, appears to be unfounded. The Reich has its own issues to handle. Voice For All – a far leftist group dedicated to the belief in the so-called sentience of Artificial Life, as well as the fear that the coming conflict against the geth would be extermination unseen since the days of Hitler. Although their message is muddled from no one coherent overlaying message, one of their professed fears is one that many can to relate to: What if the offensive fails?_

_With the coming of the new millennium approaching, and the march to armed conflict against the geth drawing ever closer, Voice for All and every other conscientious objector to the Vow has been out in force themselves, resulting in thousands of cases of civil disobedience, riots, sit-in's and horrendous attempts at protest music. Frankly, they could have used a lesson or two in protest music from the likes of Bob Dylan, John Lennon and Marvin Gaye._

_But regardless of their musical prowess, they are in many ways Germany's answer to the American peace movement during the 1960's. They protest whatever that can be construed as a war making investment. As such very few leaders of industry are spared. As such they are praised in the intellectual circles and the anti-quarian groups spread out all over the world as promoters as peace. However their actions have been labelled by military men as a culture of entitlement, stemming from a lack of existential crisis caused by warfare since 1970, when the Soviets declared the third Soviet-German War. Some view the youth movements that have popped up since the 1980's as barely veiled racial hatred to the quarian people, whose people were very nearly destroyed at the hands of the machines they defend…_

"Shall I refresh your drink, sir?"

Looking up from his datapad, Adam Ackerson offered the bartender a smile and nod before he returned back to digital newspaper.

This probably wasn't quite what Joachim Hoch meant when he came over to the guest house on his property, in which Adam lived in so that he could be close to the family, and told him flat out that he thought that he had become a rather dull sight to behold whenever the personal physician and physical trainer was keeping an eye on him and Hanala.

In the end, Joachim all but used whatever authority the 80 year old had left to command him out of the house and take some time off for him… the keyword being _him. _Rarely did Adam find the time to do this sort of thing. It was sort of impossible when you were placed in the position of both Father and Mother to a daughter of five years of age. Personal time more or less meant he would be drinking juice and playing with dolls, sports, spending time with Amala's little friends or video games.

Now there wasn't anything overly wrong with that, Adam loved his kid and would not have traded it for anything else in the world. It just got sort of… redundant and stunted his already limited social life. And if someone as socially stunted, racist (he was getting better apparently, but goddamn, if what he was now was considered _better_ than it must have been astounding in his youth_)_ and pigheadedly stubborn as Joachim Hoch was telling him to get out of the grind and take a night off, then Adam knew it must have been bad…

"_With the fiftieth anniversary of Victory Day two weeks away, the final preparations for the ceremonies are well underway,"_ he heard the holoprojection of the news anchors speak from the view screen in the bar. _"It is expected that a record number of attendants will mark the event. 2.7 million Germans, sixty thousand quarians and 37 million Russians were killed in the three separate conflicts between 1941 and 1974…"_

Adam tuned out the broadcast as he focused on his drink again. The truth was, Adam really only had one love left in his life – Amala. He doted on her, or at least that what he self-diagnosed it as. That doting sort of came with the territory of being a single parent to be honest. With his family in Vancouver, Canada and Amala's grandparents in the United Kingdom –Both nations with severe travel restrictions against German citizenry still- Amala ended up being the only family he had left. Amala and Alexandria of course…but that didn't exactly last long…

Since… since Alexandria left two years, the Hoch family really stood up to fill the void left in her wake. Joachim and Hanala were like parents who truly understood him. They did not judge his decision to abandon North America and his blood to come back to the Fatherland. They instead honoured his choice. Each of them a separate personality, different motivations yet in a rare moment of solidarity, supported him.

First there was Generalmajor Jochen von Hoch. Both he and his family were another rock that he never imagined to have had. Adam supposed it came from his own service to the Heer that gave the first Prussian nobleman in the Hoch family a spot in his heart. Most men Adam's age were conscripted, as were ethnic Germanic citizens attempting to make a life in the Reich. Adam was ethnic German and a volunteer. With six children and an aristocratic wife named Constanze von Stauffenberg, the Von Hoch's served as a real backbone to the future of the family. They intended on shedding the National Socialist image built by Joachim Hoch.

Erika'Lautari nee Hoch was the closest thing to a maternal figure that Amala had. Erika could do and say things that Adam simply lacked the courage to do. Like Adam, she too had been married. She married a quarian architect named Halar'Lautari, but unfortunately they had divorced in 1992.

Interspecies couplings were rare, and having a long lasting marriage even rarer. There were many, many differences, many difficulties. If Hanala and Joachim didn't share the common trait of being complete lunatics, Adam would not have been surprised if their union broke up as well. Whatever the case, Erika was doing find and even had a daughter herself –Candace, who was about three years older than Amala.

Haeva Hoch was the second half of "The Twins" (Erika and Haeva were both conceived within days of each other). Unlike her sister, she had never quite settled down. She was a lot of fun with little responsibility to her name. It was something she really came to enjoy. The Hoch Legacy was not her concern in the same way it was to Jochen, but she still cared in her own way. In her spare time she helped to take care of her Mother and Father. Her light and amusing presence always brought a lot of laughter to the two of them. It was a talent that Adam could really appreciate.

Galina Hoch, on the other hand, was a whole separate matter altogether. She was aloof and impersonal, but not in a cold sense of the word. As Hanala's only natural born child, Galina suffered from complications from birth to a womb poisoned with element zero radiation. Instead of developing cancers or biotics, Galina's developing brain was directly affected from the exposure ten month quarian gestation period. She had a serious case of Obsessive Comprehension Disorder –a potentially debilitating form of quarian autism. If not regulated and treated; Galina could quite literally think herself into a state of catatonia, and potentially death caused by the brain's inability to focus on the little things that kept the body alive, such as eating and drinking. Thankfully, she had access to advanced education programs from an early age. She learned to mostly control her impulses and with a huge, supportive family, she more or less was capable of keeping herself from relapsing.

The eldest of the siblings was Saleb'Jarva. Although she was a daughter to Joachim and Hanala, she was in actuality, a cousin to the Hoch children. Her parents were murdered by the Nazis in the prelude to the German Civil War. She was taken in by Hanala, then Joachim not long after. She was sort of the woman that Adam could relate to the most. She understood his feelings of being the outsider when he was more or less adopted into the Hoch clan back in 1996.

Adam could not have been more grateful to Saleb, her wife Drea'Jarva nee Zaelor and their three adult children: Veyare, Rael and Kalin. They had all been real supportive to him in the years following the loss of Alexandria and his subsequent role as Mother and Father to Amala. They were sort of the emotional medicine he needed. Saleb was sort of his closest confidant now.

Then there was John Hoch. John Hoch was… Well… he was John Hoch… There was really no defining who he was. He could be your best friend, or worse nightmare. Thankfully Adam had fallen into the former of the two now. There was a time when John _really _didn't like him. Of course that was befor-

Adam's thoughts on the Hoch family vanished as he felt a force hit him in the back. His glass of Rye spilt all over his datapad. A small thud hit the ground behind him. Silently cursing as he attempted to wipe off his expensive pad, he turned right around and found the reason why his datapad was drenched in booze, its thin glass already wonkily flickering.

Sitting on the ground was a young quarian woman. Her hand was covering her face as though that gesture was the secret to invisibility without military technology at hand. The flare up of his annoyance that his property was damaged by her clumsy actions vanished. It was clear that there was nothing he could add to that. Deciding instead to take pity on her, Adam stood from his seat and before the approaching maitre'd could do it, offered his hand out to the clearly embarrassed woman.

"Hey… are you okay?" he inquired, his mouthing slightly open.

His words were enough for the woman to pull her hand off her face. She looked up wearily at the hand offered and at Adam who was offering it. Her eyes nearly immediately fell as though she needed to debate her next moves carefully. Noticing her discomfort, he offered her a reassuring smile, one that clearly sent the signal that he was not some sort of menace top to her.

Whether or not she got the signal was up in the air, she ignored the offer and pushed herself off the ground by her own doing. Adam's smile faltered and he dropped his hand as the two of them stood up straight once again. Still, the woman did not look him in the eye. Perhaps she was embarrassed; perhaps he was repulsive to her…

"I… yes I-I'm fine," the woman finally addressed him, her voice strange – as though she was only new to speaking. She peaked up at him for a moment before reverting back to staring at her heels. "Sorry… I _ahhh_… I splashed you," she added.

Glancing down at his open neck suit jacket doused in whiskey, Adam allowed a low chuckle to echo out. It was enough to make the woman relax somewhat. She seemed to finally understand that her clumsiness really did no damage to anything other than perhaps her own pride.

"Well, both I and the jacket are perfectly fine," he reassured her again in a low tone. He gestured to the bar, to where he had been sitting and added, "Why don't you take a seat and order yourself a drink. You seem like you need a drink."

The woman did not reply to the suggestion. She sort of bit her lip and glanced wistfully pas him and to the bar behind him. She emitted an audible sigh and stepped forward; her hands latched together as she brushed by him and took a seat on the stool he had been sitting next to. Her awkwardness made him stifle a grin as he too sat down and watched as the woman stammer something out in Khelish to the bartender.

As a strong looking drink was poured in front of her, Adam raised his finger up to get his drink refilled once again. Together the two of them drank in a dead silence, occasionally glancing up to the view screen to watch the news. Adam fell back into his thoughts as he allowed the startled woman a chance to recompose herself.

He would not force her into a conversation simply because they were sitting in close proximity. It just seemed sort of… rude to impose on her like that. It was clear she was troubled, and he was in no position to exactly dispense advice on her like he was some sort of expert. It was one think to fix the body, but the thoughts and the mood of a woman having a bad day? No… no way was he stumbling into that mess voluntarily. Besides, a strong drink was a real tonic to those sorts of issues…

"I was supposed to meet someone here at 5," she suddenly blurted out as she set down her glass and timidly slid it over the bar towards the server. "Sort of a... a blind date thing my sis… sister set up. I'll… I'll never forgive her for this…"

Adam checked his watch, archaic, compared to the technology he had, but sort of a going away gift he received from his family back home in Vancouver. It read it was 7:24. She had been waiting around the restaurant for nearly two and half hours? Christ…

Squinting at her, he watched as the woman bowed her head low over her now refilled glass. She appeared to be utterly miserable at her revelation; miserable and clearly wondering why she had so willingly exposed that to him. Why in the hell would anyone stand her up? She wasn't bad looking –at least to his own standard of beauty. He could never really tell what went on in the minds of quarians raised quarians. Those quarians were still a real mystery to him.

"Seems like he's… late," he mumbled rather unhelpfully. As she looked up to him incredulously, he added. "His loss, I reckon… or hers…"

For the first since sitting down, the woman finally cast her eyes in his direction. Her pensive gaze finally broke down into a hesitant smile. It appeared to have quite a bit of work for her to produce. Taking it as a victory in that he made the uptight, nervous woman relax somewhat, Adam returned the smile and raised his glass towards her.

"Adam Ackerson," he introduced himself.

Her eyes darted from his face and to the glass. She raised her own glass and tapped it against his.

"_Daelia_…" she breathed as she averted her eyes again. "I'm Daelia'Vael."

As Daelia'Vael drank heavily from her glass, so did Adam, who turned away from her to look at the view screen in the bar. Calling odd would be an understatement.

He kind of liked it to be honest…

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**I really should have released sooner. Thing is that I'm still sort of in the epic length Uplifted chapters mindset. I have decided to pull back the size for this first story somewhat. This story is dedicated to the establishment of the characters and not the overriding plot, just as the original Uplifted had been. So my apologies for the time it took.**

**As some of you may notice already, there are details already changed. A lot has changed in my mind since I wrote the first 1999 interlude. Another thing is to not to expect any written parts from contemporary figures that are any more than mentions. I have a real discomfort in writing real, living people. So much so that I had to change who becomes the Kaiser…**

**But all of this can wait. Expect the next chapter out pretty quickly. It better be considering I have most of it already written. Also I'll be doing quick translations in the first chapters to introduce you to new elements (I'm not a native German speaker, so if you're German and you want to correct me. I will welcome it.)**

**UPDATE: **

**Kreismarine has been changed to Raumstreitflotte (Space Combat Fleet) Thank you to Seruun for the correction.**

**Thank for reading!**

**...**

**Up next: **

**_From: Haeva Hoch, Director of Public Relations_**

**_To: The Boss_**

_Coming to greet the new staff?_

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**From: John Hoch, Founder of Daedalus Industries**

**To: The Wage Slave (AKA annoying, but beloved little sister #2... sort of)**

_Should be down in ten, just getting some bubbly for the kids; Are they old enough to drink? They all look goddamn 14 to me._


	2. John Hoch

**Now that wasn't a long wait, was it?**

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**Chapter Two: John Hoch**

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"Welcome to Daedalus Foundation. My name is Erika Hoch, Director of Human Resources. It is always such a pleasure to receive new talent from around the world, considering the crutch you have had for not being born within the borders of the Reich."

As the gathering of engineers, designers and physicians from dozens of theoretical and practical fields surrounded the two of them, Haeva Hoch turned to smile at her somewhat brash sister, Erika. Judging from the low chuckle and smiles offered by the newcomers, they were simply happy to stand here.

She could not fault them for their gratefulness. They were in a special position. They were considered the best that the outside world could offer them –the elite. With the relaxation of travel restrictions to the German Reich, this was the largest cross section of scientists imported from the world and brought to the halls of Daedalus Foundation. Each man and woman had been handpicked personally from the head of the biotechnology firm himself.

"And I am Haeva Hoch, Director of Public Relations," Haeva spoke up as she stepped forward to join her sister side by side. "It will be my job to spread the word to the world of your talents. All that I ask of you in return is to not make my job any harder by disappointing the founder. He hates to be proven wrong about people he believes in, and that disappointment is never left at the office. A miserable John Hoch is a miserable Hoch family, which you all are now extended members of."

"In other words, we are all in the same boat now," Erika chimed in suddenly. "Thank God that John is rarely disappointed, right Haeva?"

The comment abetted the newcomers into relaxing somewhat in the presence of the two members of the Hoch family. Smiling again at her sister, Haeva pushed through the group with Erika not far behind. Behind them the new arrivals followed almost lock step behind them.

"Daedalus Industries was officially founded in 1979, but had been a brainchild to John Hoch for the better part of the decade," Haeva addressed them once again as they wandered down the hallways of the eighteenth floor of the Daedalus Perch building. "His dream was a simple one: To bring quarian bio-augmentation and medicine to humanity and at a more than fair price. It has been John's vision of a better integrated society, where the quarian nation did not hold the corner market on their science. It his by his hard work and dedication to humanity that has freed this technology from out of the Mandat-"

From behind her a throat cleared and brought Haeva to a silence. She turned back and found it had belonged to Dr. Dominque-Renée Tanet. Her hand appeared to be raised as though she was still in school. Considering her age, this was likely her first posting in the real world.

"I don't mean to be rude…" she spoke nervously to Haeva. "But you're talking about quarians like you're not one of them."

Haeva pushed the natural urge to screw with the girl's mind. She instead spread her mouth open into a warm, receptive smile to the natural curiosity. Many outsiders had still never encountered quarians outside of the Reich and the Mandate. Quarians had rather strict movement policies to keep the dwindling race from spreading out too much.

Still, it was somewhat strange that the woman had never met a quarian before. The Republic of Brittany was a rather popular destination spot for quarians to explore and understand Celtic culture in the wake of the United Kingdom's steadfast closure of its borders to German and quarian general visitation. She supposed the woman might have been a small town girl back in her small nation and never had the opportunity to be in contact with the people who went out of their way to force the North French Republic into relinquishing control over the Province.

Brittany's independence stemmed from steadfastly supporting the German cause against the Soviets in 1943. Remembering National Socialism's firm support for an independent Breton state, the small province sent raw material and a battalion of men to fight in the east. Many of their sons did not return during the advance into Leningrad. The sacrifice of so many sons of Brittany touched the usually hard hearted Wehrmacht Council and as soon as Leningrad was taken in June of 1944, The Council demanded a fully autonomous state of Brittany to be created inside two years. France protested naturally, but quickly relented when the quarians imposed themselves into the argument.

Although it was unconfirmed publically, Haeva remembered when Mother confined in her that she more or less told the French government that if it wasn't resolved, then the quarian board and conclave would support the independence of Normandy as well. Considering that France was already divided and sharing a border with a heavily revised version of Vichy France (Renamed as the Reich Protectorate State of South France) and it controlled almost all of the coast lines on the Bay of Biscay and the entirety of the Mediterranean.

But even as France relented its control over Brittany, the trouble for France did not end. Mother, as it turned out, may or may not have accidentally let slip just how much France would need Normandy to the regional leaders inside Normandy. It wasn't long after that France had to recognize Normandy as a semi autonomous province.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I never met a Breton either," Haeva reassured her kindly. "Don't let my appearance fool you; I am more than just a quarian. I may hold on to the traditions of my race, but I am a German first and foremost."

Smiling once again at the young woman, she turned to cast an amused look at Erika. She turned back to the group and brought them to a stop as her hand gestured to the observation windows into the laboratories they were passing by.

"As some of you already know, we are currently in the visitor area Sector 28a: Microscopic Augmentation and Application Sciences," Erika informed them as the group of foreigners moved to the windows. "This is where the sciences of nanotechnology are explored and perfected for animal experimentation in 1999, with human adaptation sometime very soon in the new millennium. It is the latest science acquired from the quarian science board."

The gathering watched as the many doctors in the laboratory worked. As they did, Haeva stepped away, her omni-tool activated as she typed out a message to the boss.

_**From: Haeva Hoch, Director of Public Relations**_

_**To: The Boss**_

_Coming to greet the new staff?_

"Has nanotechnology been used on humans before?" she heard one of the men say. "I heard… rumours it was deployed as an assassination tool against the SS back during the Civil War."

As Haeva closed the holographic paneling of the omni-tool and turned around to answer the charge, she was saved the energy by Erika, who stepped forward. The ever present smile of the human resources director never vanished.

"Only once has it been used before; on the infamous SS chief Reinhard Heydrich after an attempted assassination in 1942," she informed the questioner and the group at large. "After the quick adaptation of replacement limbs on other men, it was believed that quarian sciences could be quickly adapted to human use. Not so as it turned out. It ended up doing far worse to him than we thought –eventually cumulating to him proactively having his nanotech rejecting lung removed."

The group, now interested in the admittance of the quarian aiding that that genocidal bastard, did not appear pacified by Erika's explanation. Several of the group were Jews according to their dossiers, so the answer came as nothing short as a travesty of justice. It was an understandable anger, but hindsight was always 50/50 as they say. So Haeva stepped forward to assist her sister.

"By the time the quarian admiralty knew what he horrors he had been constructing, it was decided it would be used as a means to facilitate his death as sort of an impromptu means to quietly kill him," Haeva elaborated on Erika's behalf. "He certainly got the better of them for a short while. It was our Father Joachim Hoch – the man who abducted Adolf Hitler- who tracked Heydrich down and put a stop to his madness."

Neither the reply nor the acknowledgement of the Hoch's role in tearing apart the National Socialist regime cooled the sudden tension. They were Foreigners who just did not understand what it took to correct the misdeeds of that time period. This would be a large issue at hand for them. They would have to learn the… _correct_ way to interpret the history of that time period. Far too many of them were taught the lies and half-truth espoused by their forefathers who hated and envied that the quarians did not choose the ruthlessly cutthroat plutocrats of the west to support.

"But why would you save him in the first place?" Eduardo Dias, a brace design engineer, spoke disbelievingly. "He was killing _undesirables_ without a personal conviction to do it, other than progressing his own career…"

Haeva rounded back on the Portuguese man. This sort of subversion was getting a little out of hand.

"Discussions about the less than savory nature of the initial contact and collaboration between the quarian admiralty and the National Socialist parties are always encouraged in the Reich, and the archives are open for you to read into them. However now is not the time to discuss moral failings that occurred nearly sixty years ago," Erika responded with a careful smile for the man who spoke.

Haeva's omni-tool chimed. She smiled to the curious onlookers, most of whom likely never saw such a device in person before and turned away to activate it.

**From: John Hoch, Founder of Daedalus Industries**

**To: The Wage Slave (AKA annoying, but beloved little sister #2)**

_Should be down in ten, just getting some bubbly for the kids; Are they old enough to drink? They all look goddamn 14 to me._

Haeva stifled the urge to laugh as she closed her omni-tool again. As she looked around, she smiled as she took in a familiar sight – her favourite American was no more than ten metres away. She was currently deep in conversation with Head of Internal Security Jürgen Reubke – a rather vicious looking Dresden born and a former Brandenburger Commando who decided to go private sector.

"Oh, for those of you who did not know, this is Isabella Ochoa," Haeva called out loudly so that Isabella could hear. "She serves as private pilot to John Hoch and is in control of the private Heli-shuttle fleet that shall shuttle you to research facilities and mass production factories in the Reich, in the Mandate, or to the private launch sites to our facilities on Luna, Mars, Europa or Enceladus and beyond to the colonies around Alpha and Proxima Centauri."

As Isabella smiled and acknowledged the group with a wave. Any and all reservation caused by the controversial conversation point that was Quarian-Nazi collaboration vanished the moment the foreigners heard the potential for exo-planetary travel.

To them, space travel was a brand new concept. It took the combined minds of the NAESA –the North American European Space Agency to coordinate their first venture to the moon in 1977. It was an impressive feat, really. Still, they lacked the technology and know-how to maintain a presence on the moon like the quarians and the Reich. Nowadays, their space shuttle program never ventured outside of its 600 kilometre range from Earth. It must have been a truly envious sight for the astronauts apart of the European and American space program to watch from their noble, but dinky little shuttle as hundreds, thousands of ships from small civilian transports to the nine kilometre long, one kilometre wide Dreadnaught _Vengeance of Rannoch_ pass them by on deep space operations.

But all of that was on the verge of potentially changing. Recent talks since the end of the Cold War had begun the tentative negotiation over a trade –space technology for resources and unlimited access into the North American market. To the Mandate, they needed all the access they could get to fund the war effort, to get back into the galactic marketplace and eventually to future reclamation projects on Rannoch, which likely an ecological disaster zone. After all, what did the geth monsters care about an environment they could never understand?

"That is, of course, once you have gone through routine space training operations," Erika added hastily before the excitement of space travel got the better of the gathering. "Although in solar system space travel to as far away as Enceladus may take up to 16 hours and have ships with gravitational field generators, it is better to err on the side of caution… ah, Galina!"

Haeva whipped her head around and sure enough, approaching them with her nose buried deep in her datapad was their baby sister Galina. She appeared to have been mumbling to herself. Whether it was her reading the screen or muttering incoherently about whatever was going on her mind, was unknown to her sisters.

As Galina closed in on them, still very much unaware that her new employee's attention was on her, Haeva cleared her throat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to introduce to you the Head of Research and Development of all of Daedalus Foundation, Galina Hoch," she loudly addressed the newcomers in order to catch even an iota of Galina's attention. "Galina, these are the latest batch of recruits!"

Galina did not bother to stop or look up to acknowledge her sisters or the group. She had work to do and little time to entertain the notions of a greeting.

"Get them to work." She muttered as she scrolled down her datapad and kept her fast pace.

Haeva and Erika smiled to each other as they watched the newcomers blanched in horror at the brisk brushoff offer by the woman who was virtually John Hoch's second-in-command. The two sisters both knew better than to assume that Galina was being rude. Twenty years into her career, ten of which as the head of all the research done by Daedalus and still Galina was nervous about meeting the people who needed to impress _her. _It was kind of sweet really.

"You'll have to forgive her…" Haeva mused as Galina ran her key card through the security scanner and stepped into the laboratory. "She's not particularly talkative to strangers. Once you prove yourself and get to know her, she will warm up considerably."

"And this isn't the only research facility here," Erika continued as she gestured once again to the facility behind the flexible plate glass observation windows. "Eight floors of this seventy four storeys tall Headquarters are strictly dedicated to research and development laboratories: Limb and organ replacement, Microscopic augmentation technologies, Future technologies and military application sciences are just some of the few fields explored here in the heart of the Foundation."

A low murmur moved through the group. Haeva groaned inwardly. He just knew exactly where this conversation was about to turn…

"Military application sciences?" one of the men repeated just like clockwork, his voice a pure Southern drawl. "I was under the impression John Hoch wasn't interested in fuelling war fighting."

For the first time since receiving the new group, Haeva watched Erika's good graces vanish. The question was a triggering of her defensive protection of all things that related to John. Haeva felt the way as well, but to a lesser extent. She knew John could more than adequately protect his image.

"My brother is a staunch advocate for the reclamation of Rannoch. For the past 55 years, the Wehrmacht and Quarian Mandate Defense Forces have been building up a conventional and unconventional military stockpile dedicated to the reclaiming of Rannoch from the geth machine menace." Erika snapped back to the offending party. "It only makes sense that they have approached Mr. Hoch about exploring the final frontier in weapon development –The soldier himself. We can make soldiers think faster, run farther and physically endure more. The War against the geth will not be like a war against the Soviets. My brother knows this, as did the military leadership. It is only natural that they collaborate..."

Haeva reached out, her hand gripping Erika's sleeve. She turned back to face her sister's attempt to keep Erika's temper in check.

"On that note, if you have a problem with the ethical nature of improving a soldier, but find it passé for a civilian to receive virtually the same technology, then you can leave right now," she warned the group, but held her eyes on the offending American. "Your spot in this corporation was battled over for by fifteen othe-."

"Sometimes I wonder why I put you two in charge of public and employee affairs," a familiar voice crowed out, cutting Haeva off from her threat. "I think you should have taken up law school instead."

Haeva smiled as she, Erika and the group turned around. Sure enough it was John approaching them, a bottle of expensive looking Champagne in his hands and several catering waiters, who were clutching trays of empty glasses as well as hors d'oeuvre's. They followed closely behind the industrialist towards the newcomers gathered in the heart of his company. Several of the Americans clapped, making John raise his free hand with a smile and Haeva wonder why in the hell did Americans have to clap over everything…

As the brief applauds died down and John stood still, looking on his new employee's with a distinct expression of pride in his eyes. It was Dr. Dominque-Renée Tanet who broke through the group and was bold enough to step forward to stand within arm's length of the spitting image of his Father, whose mouth was formed into a rather predatory grin.

"Sir…" Dominque-Renée Tanet greeted the industrialist, her voice breathless as she held out her hand. "It's such an honour to finally meet you in person. I was at your conference in Brest in 1987; I read your dissertation on human controlled evolution and the Modern Process in of battling epidemics in 1989. Both you and your company are the reason why I studied theoretical medical sciences at UBO."

The words spoken by the woman was clearly hero worship with a touch of attraction. Whatever the case, it was enough to make the group look on her like she was already some sort of suck up to him. If the gushing on the part of Dominque was not bad enough, John upped it as he took her hand, offered the Breton a sly grin and popped open the cork of the champagne bottle with his thumb.

As John handed the bottle over to the catering staff and shook Dominque's hand. Haeva did her utmost to not openly groan at his blatant posturing he was already displaying for her. Renée was here to work, not to be underneath him. And considering she was the ripe old age of 23, John, now 45, was quickly reaching the age where it was considered slightly creepy… even if he was a billionaire industrialist.

"_That was a huge gamble on your part…but here you are, over ten years later, with your dream now a reality,"_ he addressed her in French, his voice falling an octave lower. "The honour is really mine now that I have someone so dedicated to my vision at such a young age," he said, reverting back to English. "I must confess that every time I see fresh new faces join our little family, I keep feeling older and older."

Most of the gathering broke down into laughter at his comments. Some remained silent, still. They were clearly the ones who had a sudden realization that they were now in the employment of a man who believed firmly in a war of extinction. Haeva took down their names. They would be trouble if left unchecked, and the last thing that John wanted was trouble within his science branch.

If John noticed it, and he likely did, he certainly was not willing to draw attention to it. He instead moved on.

"You are standing in the pinnacle of artificial human evolutionary development. Although we no longer have exclusive rights to augmentation sciences, Daedalus Foundation is decades ahead of our friendly competition," John continued, his hands flying high as he gestured to his pride and joy. "While that may be the case, Daedalus Foundation is still decades –_centuries even_- behind our quarian cousins in corporations such as Gau'layr Industries and Rannoch Origins. We are the middle of the pack, but that is where I like to be. It means we have room to grow, it means we will have competition for many years to come. Buy with your help, your education, and your dedication to advancement, we will push ahead and give these well-established giants a run for their business."

Erika joined her brother's side and took his forearm. It was her way to turn the prep talk off. John looked at her, amused that she was cutting him off. John glanced to Haeva, who shrugged. It didn't matter what situation they were in: Erika was always the boss.

"But for now, this is a moment to celebrate, and to welcome you all within the embrace of Daedalus Foundation," Erika informed the gathering once again. "So help yourselves to something to eat and drink, commingle with your new co-workers… and once again, welcome to Daedalus Foundation..."

…

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><p>…<p>

His pupils dilated, a rush to his head exploded and his neurons flared back to life and kicked right back into that so familiar overdrive. John Hoch's head flew back off the bathroom counter. His hand wiping the cocaine buried into his nostrils.

"_All for freedom and for pleasure, Nothing ever lasts forever…."_

With his earbuds blaring 'Tears for Fears' into his brain, John brushed the last bits of stimulate into the sink and stepped back, rubbing his hair and then worked to fix his tie. He had to get back to the newcomers least he faced the wraith of his sisters for ducking out of the party.

Impromptu office parties were lame ways to show that the work environment was a light and laid back. He might have concocted it, but it didn't mean he had to LIKE it. He supposed it would be a good chance to scope out the new meat, figure out which ones would be going places and prepare to further their careers to other branches inside the Corporation. At least that was before his bump of coke and the champagne that was now flowing freely from his private stock.

He would save evaluations for later, for now he was going to go out and find that fresh piece of meat who sucking up to him. The Breton woman … Dominque; he would probe into that avenue. He was more than certain he could have his way with her. The thing was he had to make sure it was worth the effort. She might have been sweet now, but she could also turned out to be an obsessive lunatic, which would have been a real turn off and a waste of a young, nubile specimen like her...

"You don't need most of the new faces."

John spun around, his eyes wide and alert. Standing there in the men's bathroom was his baby sister Galina. Her eyes were bowed, and her mouth forming a deep frown. She clearly didn't want anything to do with the novel recruiting John was engaged in.

"_How long were you standing there?"_ he hissed as he yanked out his earbuds, his eyes darting back and forth as the coke fueled paranoia got the better of him.

Naturally, Galina did not acknowledge the change in his demeanor, or his question. She stepped forward and forced herself to look into her twitchy brother's eyes.

They are… _redundant_… and will be difficult to re-educate. Mass recruitment from foreign countries was not the right course," she replied, her tone remaining firmly apathetic. "It smells like something Haeva concocted...a public relations stunt to show how… progressive we are."

John could not help but chuckle at Galina's concerns. He leaned against the edge of the counter and crossed his arms and legs together.

"If you read any of the memos you were sent that weren't directly related to your work, you would know that she was against the idea," he retorted briskly. "This was all my idea; just give them a chance. If it doesn't work out, I will deal with it."

John slight criticism for her lack of awareness did bother the woman in the slightest. Holding her eyes on John for a solid ten to fifteen seconds, Galina finally nodded. She appeared to be satisfied with his response.

As Galina turned away, she paused herself and turned back to face him once again. In a rare display of physical contact, her hand reached out and brushed against his nostrils. John reached out and pulled her hand away from his face and offered her a weak smile. If there was one person who could make him feel even an ounce of guilt over the matter, it would have been her.

"Dilated pupils, inflamed nostrils, heart rate increased… it's not the 1980's anymore," was all she had to say to twist the knife in his gut.

Leaving her brother slightly leaned forward and unsteadily pecked his cheek before she pulled back and left John alone in the bathroom. John shook his head and turned back to look into his reflection.

John reached into his jacket and pulled out his gold cigarette case and lighter. As he lit up his cigarette, his thoughts turned to what his sister had said. Perhaps there was a grain of truth to it. He wasn't in his twenties or thirties anymore; and with the coming expansion into Council space only a year or two away, it would be time to put the past to bed and look forward to what was yet to come.

With John's thoughts focused on the expansion, his machine index finger unconsciously etched the Reichsadler swastika –once scratched out by his father in likely a fit of rage, it had been restored by John when he received the inheritance. Unlike the rest of the Hoch's, he was not a firm believer in erasing out the past. Not when there was so much to draw from it. The tried and tested Hoch tactic of burying one's own head in the sand was just not appealing to him.

Shaking his thoughts on the future out of his mind, he exhaled his cigarette and tapped it out in the sink. Fixing his jacket and forcing a smile back onto his face; he left the solitude of the bathroom and rejoined the party brewing just outside. He immediately locked eyes with his pilot and bodyguard Isabella Ochoa, who was chatting vibrantly in Spanish to one of the new recruits; he offered her his smile and a nod.

As he grabbed a fresh glass of champagne off of one of the servers, he turned around and found that half a dozen scientists had gathered around him in a manner not dissimilar to that of the Remora hanging off of a Shark. He widened his smile for them.

"And I suppose you have questions?" he inquired brightly.

His words more or less brought the many conversations to a standstill and both of his sisters excused themselves from their conversations. They both joined his side as though he was in need of protection or back up perhaps. It was really not an uncommon situation to be in since the early eighties. He _was_ sort of a big deal to many. To be honest, John sort of liked to be the centre of attention. It meant that everyone was listening whenever he spoke.

A woman stepped forward first. She was wearing a rather nervous smile, as though she did not want to stir up the Industrialist. John softened his smile somewhat, his free hand dug into his trouser pocket in an attempt to quietly relax her.

"John… I mean, Sir, I need to ask about your Weapons programs," the woman spoke to him, she sounded Italian "I… well, we all were told that no such programs existed during our recruitment applications. We believed your work was strictly for civilian application only."

"Planes, chlorine and barbed wire were originally designed for civilian application as well…" Haeva growled before John could respond to the question.

Groaning audibly at his sister's snide remark, John reached over, grabbed Haeva by her head and kissed her temple. The act brought laughter to the gathering and embarrassed poor Haeva into silence. Chuckling with the group, John turned back to the woman.

"You were told that out of national security concerns," John addressed the woman and the crowd as a whole. "You have since signed a nondisclosure agreement, so I will address your concerns: Yes, we flubbed the truth somewhat. These are tense days. With the war drawing near and cold feet growing from the youth, we cannot admit to these sorts of programs partly due to our own nondisclosure agreements with the contractors within the Wehrmacht and partly to stem the fear of the unjustified and unfounded concerns that our technology firm is somehow flaunting the very scientific ethics we hold most dear in order to create and roll out some sort of super soldier program."

The whispering grew amongst the crowd. John winced and rubbed his nose as the cocaine kicked him once again. He had said the magic phrase. He had said the three words that drove foreigners absolutely insane with fear.

_Super soldier program._

"Look, if you're going to work here the you need to understand that the so-called '_super soldier'_ programs are the delusional lies and half-truths expounded by American mass media in all forms, meant to demonize the Reich and the quarians and cause fear and concern amongst the young men and women who will take the battle across the galaxy in order to combat the geth," he spoke with the patience of a saint. "These fears are propaganda to make common soldier in the Wehrmacht think that their government views them as organic drone which needs to be improved upon. The Cold War may be ending, but it hasn't stopped their xenophobic and anti-German fears from crossing oceans. They do not have access to this technology, and they will not have access to it for a long time to come, so they go out of their way to demonize what they cannot have."

He took a deep breath.

As you likely noticed, I did indeed say _'half-truths'_," he continued onwards, hoping to Christ that he was not slurring his words. "Yes, if our technology is misused, we could potentially create superior soldiers; but frankly the amount of technology required to make the super soldier _'super'_ would more than likely destroy the body and mind of the test subject. Augmentation technology with the expressed purposes of improving a soldier cannot and should not be done on a whim. The brain and body cannot be hijacked with too much manmade technology. They are durable, yes, but they have their limits, and we just do not have the technology yet for it to be a viable possibility."

It appeared that he was making some headway into the foreigners. Many in the crowd remained unconvinced, yes. But more and more of them seemed to have been relaxing and acknowledging what he was trying to tell them.

"Secondly, the ethics of augmentation for the sake of augmentation is still up in the air," John pressed on. "While I support responsible use of augmentation technology, I cannot deny the huge untapped potential we have been granted. Quarians have been augmenting themselves for centuries prior to the geth extermination. There was no singularity achieved, no large jump to something completely different then it meant to be quarian. The only way for this science to grow is to begin to push the boundaries, but frankly soldiers placed into the battlefield are not where we should start."

"This topic has not even begun to approach the expenditures, and the fact that all augmentation must be approved of by the individual soldier. There is no forced augmentation policy that has been enacted by Wehrmacht Command," Erika murmured as she sipped her drink.

John gave his sibling a radiant smile as he patted her shoulder.

"Yes, Erika raises the financial aspect to the program. Even if the moral debate allowed it and the science worked, the cost would be astronomical per soldier deployed," he clarified Erika's statement for the recruits. "It costs seven hundred thousand for a reflex booster alone, two hundred thousand for an infolink, military grade limb replacement surgery eight hundred thousand. The cost projected for one soldier could cross into the millions, and its value against the geth is unfounded. The geth could adapt and make most of the new advantages moot."

"But the quarians don't just have enemies in the geth, do they?" a voice called out, cutting John off rather unexpectedly. "They have intentions with much of the other races and not enough numbers to do it themselves."

For the first time, all amusement washed off of John's expression. The mood fell flat as John held his eyes on the source of the comment that cut him off.

The gathering of scientists shuffled out of the way to reveal the source of the remark. It belonged to one Alan Chu –a bio-engineer graduate from MIT. An intelligent young mind, he apparently failed to study up on John's history. John had very few topics that made him hot under the collar. The concept that quarians would use humans as cannon fodder was the absolute pinnacle of anti-quarian xenophobia. It was the sort of ignorance, bordering on racism that John could simply not ignore.

A low chuckle came from John finally as a cool smile spread across his mouth. He stepped forward to where Chu stood. The men and women parted as the coked up industrialist meandered his way over to the source of his ire.

"Ah yes… the classic theory of "_Vergeltungskrieg"_ – Retribution War, which foreigners love to sprout off about," he replied sardonically, his fingers making air quotes before his brain had a chance to tell him out to do it. "To those who are unaware, _Vergeltungskrieg_ is the overwhelming retaliatory war against every alien civilization which turned their back on the quarians during the exile... which is every known species. I have heard this topic brought up around me since my sisters here were eating in high-chairs and still in diapers."

Like clockwork, Erika and Haeva both glared at John for saying such a thing. Some of the scientists and engineers laughed uncomfortably.

"Quarians… as it may come to you as a shock- are just as emotional as we are," he pressed on, his voice rising as he turned around to stare at all of the new people. "Considering that only a century ago, a mistake on the part of a few accumulated in the eradication of 99 percent of their _entire _species, and that the council races and members allowed it to happen; at best through apathy, or at worse, deliberately, but then also punished the survivors for the mistake, then yes, yes the survivors would indeed want to discuss a long term response to this grievous wound in which the quarians still are recovering from."

John turned his eyes back to Chu. The young man seemed to realize that he stumbled into a conversation he held no chance of retorting to.

"However, the talk is just that _–talk_," John said as he stepped by Chu and moved further into the crowd. "No quarian in any position of power intends on starting a Vergeltungskrieg against the turian hierarchy any time soon, let alone every other species. It would be madness, an act as insane as Hitler declaring war on the United States in support of the Japanese, while in a war with the Soviets and the British. The Reich and the Mandate have enough on their plates as it is without staring any more wars."

"In short: Super Soldiers are a fabrication designed to sway the public away facts at hand," Haeva tacked on, her voice filled with a finalization, that the topic would not be broached again for the time being. "Just because we support The Oath and the military, does not mean we will blindly allow ourselves to be seduced by the power of human augmentation sciences. The Hoch family swore long ago to never allow those in a position of political and military power to lead us blindly by the nose ever again. That extends to this Foundation as well."

"And there is no serious debate on waging war against trillions of aliens with a population of 100 million Germans and 30 million quarians." Erika added as well

John pressed his hand against his face and exploded into a wild giggle. Why in the hell couldn't he just say that instead of spewing out that long winded defense of the quarians? Numbers were so much simpler to get. When in the hell did Erika and Haeva get to be the clever ones? It wasn't long ago that Erika and Haeva were aqua net infused, binge drinking, metal head bimbos.

"Herr Hoch, a moment of your time?" He heard behind him. John turned around It was Charlotte, his personal assistant. She was glancing around at the new faces, smiling before she turned back to John to add. "General Von Manstein is in the conference room. He appears to be agitated. I already sent Galina his way."

John nodded and down his glass of alcohol. If there was one thing he did not like to deal with it was an annoyed or agitated Generaloberst Erich-Rüdiger von Manstein questioning him about the progress in his R&D department. Rich considering the Wehrmacht was nearly always behind on their payments.

"Right…" John said rubbing the back of his neck. He turned back to Erika and loudly added, "Erika, show our new men and women to the dining room in an hour. I'll meet them there for dinner… and get their security clearances finalized. The sooner they work, the sooner we all get paid."

The group broke down into a laughter, which for the most part went a long way to ease the tension built up by the previous conversations. John smiled once again watched as Erika guided the group out of the foyer, leaving John behind with Haeva, Charlotte, Isabella, the Head of Security Reubke and the caterers, now cleaning up after the departing group.

"What did I tell you about mass hiring foreigners?" Haeva was the first to speak. "I could have sworn I warned you repeatedly."

John rounded back on Haeva. His physical reaction was already enough to make the younger sibling smirk.

"Alright, I get it! You're right! What in the hell was I thinking for not listening to the all-knowing, all-seeing Galina and Haeva Hoch?" John growled back at his sister sardonically. "Look…" he sighed. "Just keep them in low clearance facilities and separated from each other whenever possible. At the end of the corner we'll begin slashing their positions if they fail to assimilate."

As Haeva inclined her head in apparent agreement, a low whistle came from Isabella Ochoa.

"Galina already spoke to you about the matter?" She mused out loud. "That was fast. It seems like age is bringing that Hoch fire out in her finally."

As Haeva and Isabella laughed at his expense, John quietly debated firing the two of them right there and then. It wouldn't be a serious shit-canning, just one to make the two of them squirm just a little bit.

"Don't even start with me, Ochoa," he warned his confidant and bodyguard. He turned to the head of security and added. "Reubke, I want you to coordinate with Haeva to identify the troublemakers and send the list to the BND for monitoring. Keep an eye on all of them, especially the North Americans. I wouldn't put it past them to send spies our way."

Jürgen made no wise crack. He simply nodded his head and moved to join Haeva without a word to utter. Good man. Respect was just what the Industrialist needed at the moment.

Washing his hands of this clusterfuck, John left the gathering of subordinates behind in order to wander into yet another.

**…**

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><p><strong>…<strong>

**Done. On to part 3 in the introduction of the three main characters of the series.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Daelia'Vael

**And we're off!**

**...**

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><p><strong>...<strong>

**Chapter Three: Daelia'Vael**

…

"Fraulein we're here… seems like there was a bit of trouble though."

Looking up from her Khelish translated and rather wrinkled paperback copy of Dostoevsky's _The Brothers Karamazov. _Daelia'Vael looked up into the eyes of her driver, who was smiling at her. Although she was weary of it, it did seem friendly enough to her.

Unconcerned by his word of caution, she instead reached into her jacket and produced her credit chit, swiping it into the pad the man had extended out to her. As she murmured a faint "_thank you"_, she wrapped her head back up into her long, dark silk scarf and climbed out of the back of the taxi and into the chilly Berlin night.

She had been living in Germany now since she was about eighteen. eight years later and still she could not handle the cold. The cold was a nuance, but it was infinitely better than living back in the Mandate. She would never, ever return back to the Mandate if she could help it. Better to live in the Reich and wait until Rannoch was back in quarian hands then return to that desert hell. She would be the first one on the transports off Earth if she had any say in the matter.

Pulling her long jacket tight around her frame, she begun to walk as the taxi sped off into the night. Her head was bowed as the flashing lights coloured the street. She stepped by the gathering of grubby looking hipster teenagers laying on the cement sidewalk, all neatly in a long row and the dozen or police officers who were standing over them, two of them had their pistols drawn on them, one was busy zap strapping their wrists and ankles together, two more officers throwing them in the back of the police transportation vans for processing. The rest were keeping the perimeter secure. Their eyes followed every passerby, who dared to look at the scene.

A sudden flurry of an argument in German broke out not far away. From just down the alleyway, more protestors were being dragged towards the already detained compatriots by fully geared riot police, extendable stun batons and tasers in their hands. Judging from the limping and groaning of the dissenters, the less-than-lethal arsenal had been deployed freely.

Just as she was about be clear of the crime scene, one of the police officer's stepped out in front of her about a dozen metres away from her. It was an armoured female officer, a strategic choice most likely made to keep her pacified. Her hand was up, gesturing to Daelia to remain where she stood. Daelia did not need to be told twice. Police in any form was something Daelia respected without question. She was not about to cause them any more trouble than they already experienced every day.

"_Identification papers please,"_ the helmeted officer requested as she stopped in front of Daelia, her hand resting on her pistol belt_. "Pankow local government placed the district under temporary curfew in response to the demonstrations."_

Daelia inclined her head and reached into her jacket to produce her identification electronic documents. The officer took it from her and stepped back to run her omni-tool over the tags. A second officer joined her, his helmet and gasmask in his hands. He was much older than the first one. His stern eyes stared into Daelia's. Daelia turned her head to stare at her feet. It felt like the right thing to do. She was not about to cause herself any trouble.

Besides, being a quarian was sort of an indication that she wasn't in cooperation with the hoodlums being rounded up and likely sent to detention centres for rehabilitation and re-education. They generally viewed quarians not as friends but as manipulators. She supposed in some ways it was like the quarians who lived in Germany had taken the place of the Jews who fled to Israel the moment the Palestinians and Jewish settlers in the Mandate came to a two state solution in 1946.

The quarians were the new Jews in many ways -always to be blamed whenever something occurred that someone didn't like. It did not matter how much they did to keep world peace and advance them, it was always in some way their fault. Then again, at least this time there was a palpable reason to distrust the quarians. it wasn't as though the Jews were about to embark on a space crusade against killer machines. That was definitely a quarian thing. And for many, it was reason enough to hate her people.

"I must have missed that curfew announcement; I was outside the district all day… Mitte to be exact," she murmured to the two officers working on her identification papers.

Receiving no immediate response, Daelia clamped her mouth close and allowed the two of them to work in silence. She could hear herself and she just knew that she sounded like a nuisance. They were here to do a job, not to listen to her excuses. Why did she make small talk with the riot police? Was she really that lonely?… stupid of her, really stupid.

Another thud hit behind the police officers as the riot police threw another dissident into the van. After a moment or two, the officer closed her omni-tool and then glanced to her partner, who nodded. The younger officer stepped forward, and she handed Daelia her identification back to her.

"_You have our apologies for this inconvenience, Fraulein Vael,"_ the officer addressed her again, this time much more agreeable.

As Daelia pocketed her identification, Daelia mouth formed into a strained smile for the two officers. Why was she smiling? She was just making herself look more foolish.

"Not… It's not a problem at all officers," she returned sincerely. "You have your duties. Inconvenience is a small price to pay for security..."

Cringing terribly, Hanala rubbed the back of her neck. As Daelia berated herself once again for sounding so stupid, the two officers glanced at each other, as though it had been the last thing they expected to hear. She expected to be laughed at. For sounding like such a fool, she must certainly deserved at least one smack with one of their stun batons.

But scorn and abuse did not come her way. Instead the grumpy looking older police officer broke his grim visage and permitted himself to smile for her, eventually chuckling as though she said something quaint. Daelia blinked. Apparently it must have been rare to find someone out there outside of the law enforcement who still saw value of their actions. But Daelia certainly did without reservation. She wasn't trendy like the others; she lived in a world of practicality.

"A young citizen who respects law enforcement is a rarity to find these days unfortunately," the older officer spoke approvingly to her. "What these people fail to understand is that our respect for their protests would have been afforded to them if they showed their respect to what we represent."

Keeping her mouth clamped, Daelia only could nod. The older officer grinned again and patted her on the shoulder and left to rejoin the arrested protestors, leaving Daelia alone with the helmeted officer.

"Police presence is likely to continue into tomorrow for the entire district," the officer briskly added. "It is recommended you stay home, or if you must go out be sure to keep your identification on you at all times. Please stay safe and vigilant, citizen."

Once again Daelia nodded and this time managed to make her legs move. She departed, leaving behind the crime scene and the police whom she more or less humiliated herself in front of. Stupid… stupid…. _STUPID!_

**…**

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><p><strong>…<strong>

Swiping her key card over the door panel, Daelia entered her small condominium apartment.

As the lights turned on and the door closed behind her, Daelia could not wait to kick off her heels and step onto the heated floor barefooted. It was just what she needed after a night like tonight. Now barefooted, she activated her monitor waited as the broadcast signal was received.

"_-The would-be attacker has been identified as 27 year old Karl Metzger from Bonn. Pankow Police Services has confirmed that the suspect has since died of his injuries…" _the news anchor spoke as Daelia turned on the heated floors._ "In lighter news, the notorious founder of Daedalus Foundation John Hoch was spotted-"_

Daelia toned out as the news switched from something she wanted to hear about to quite possibly the least likable person on the face of the earth. All that wealth on his hands and all he could do was be a decadent playboy?

Her gripes about the man were cut off as she heard the door to her bedroom opened, making Daelia jump in fright.

But there was nothing to fear. It was just another incident of her overactive fear. Standing there in the door frame was Nytalia, naturally. One hand was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, the other resting on her stomach, where the developing fetus was growing inside of her.

The shorter woman waddled over to her sister and attempted to hug her. Her expression was a bright smile which Daelia attempted to return. Daelia reached over and returned the affection halfheartedly as she turned the station to find a John Hoch free news broadcast.

"Sorry," Nytalia addressed her sibling as she carefully sat down on the couch. "I know you don't like people in your personal space, but your bed is _unbelievably_ comfy."

Daelia frowned at the statement, but knew better than to reply to her pregnant sister's observation –just in case it turned into an argument. Of course the bed was comfy. It took her three weeks of shopping and selection to find the perfect bed for her to rest on. Everything she did and chose had to be deliberate, or else she could not simply live with it.

Daelia froze her channel surfing as soon as she found herself staring at Martin Bruckmann – the host of the popular roundtable discussion forum _State of the Nation. _His neutral expression was always a relief to see for her. He was someone who was impartial to all that came across his table… and never did he seem to do puff pieces meant to lure people into a false sense of insecurity or relaxation. It was a relief to see an actual journalist then a propaganda spiller.

"_Now let's move on to the last topic of the night. Latest polls indicate that popular support for the war remains at a high eighty four percent," _the presenter spoke to the gathering._ "It is a statistic that appears to confirm what Chancellor Manfred Rommel has addressed –the loud minority drowning out the popular will of the people. I the wake of tonight's riots across the Reich, I ask the panel if our government has afforded too much freedom of expression in recent years, especially now that we are on the eve of the Grand Crusade. Where does expression end and sedition begin?"_

"The police have been at it all night," she told Daelia as she rested against the back of the couch with a soft groan. "Some dumbass tried to firebomb a reenlistment station on _Kronprinzenstraße_. The idiot took three paces outside into the street with a lit Molotov cocktail and got four bullets in the chest and torched in response."

Daelia flinched at the statement. He did not need to know the extent of how the protester died. To her credit, Nytalia did not so much as blink at the information she was sharing. She always seemed to have a stronger stomach for that sort of thing. It came with her four years of enlistment in the Quarian Mandate Defense Force when she turned 18.

"Sooo… how was it?"

Daelia squinted at her sibling.

"_How do you do that?"_ Daelia murmured to herself in a whisper. _"You tell me about some poor misguided kid who got killed and then switch topics like it was nothing." _

Nytalia offered her baby sister an awful smirk. It was always the sort of expression that made Daelia worry, or in this case dread what she was about to say next. It was never very good.

"By not giving a shit about another dead dissident who went ahead and acted like an idiot," Nytalia casually remarked, clearly taking a sick pleasure in watching Daelia squirm. "Now stop stalling and tell me about your date! Was Cades nice?"

Staring at her sister for a moment, Daelia answered the question by looking away.

"_Generalmajor Jochen von Hoch, you have been remarkably restraint tonight," _Daelia listened to Bruckmann speak._ "Surely you have an opinion on the mass arrests occurring this very hour."'_

The camera panned in on the lone military man in the room, who was in the middle of his glass of water. Daelia toned out any and all conversation about the date talk her sister insisted on engaging in.

He could not have been over forty and he was a Generalmajor. Daelia remembered the pictures in her history books and the interviews in the past. Jochen von Hoch was virtually a spitting image of his Father, Generalfeldmarschall Joachim Hoch. The difference only was skin deep at best; his hair more of a dirty blonde and his eyes while the same piercing blue had a remarkably different look in them. Joachim Hoch's eyes were cruel – a product of the indoctrination he voluntarily underwent, the hell he endured during his military sacrifice… and that great, awful regret he held. Jochen Hoch's were softer, kinder. Disciplined, certainly, but infinitely more receptive.

There wasn't an inherent falseness to him like his industrialist brother, John either. She knew she had no right to judge another person, but John oozed a poisonous confidence and spelt out trouble. To her, there was just no way in her mind that John was the saint his money and stunts could make him look like.

"_Well this is sort of like that Nena girl situation back in 1983. You know her, she was the one who wrote a song about balloons and found herself in prison for three years on sedition charges? She did not even write the song!"_ Generalmajor Von Hoch addressed the panel, earning a slight chuckle from them._ "All these arrests do is empower the movement and provide foreign sympathy to the peace movement. It legitimizes the argument that the war we are about to embark on as one of genocide. Arrest the violent ones, yes, offer re-education programs to the nonviolent offenders, certainly. To mass arrest them and stain their criminal records over a difference in opinion is an overkill we can ill afford."_

As several of the panel members tried to cut in, all Jochen von Hoch did was hold up one hand to silence him as he sipped his water. Everyone in the panel knew better than to speak up and interrupt him.

"_Furthermore I happen to disagree with the suggestion that some of the panel here assumption that freedom of expression and protest are dangerous avenues to travel down these days,"_ he continued in his low rumble. _"I refuse to believe that the German Reich that has stood since the death of National Socialism –an organization, may I remind you, which feared dissent to its core as well- has the exact same insecurities that allowed us to travel down the exact same path. I refuse to accept the notion that the guidance of our quarian cousins, who patiently taught our people that it was well within our rights to question our actions were all for nothing. I refuse to believe that the moment our union shows a crack in the foundation that it would all tumble into self-destruction. _

_I do believe firmly in the conviction that the German people will know that it is no longer a time for a apathy to The Vow we swore our cousins fifty three years ago. I believe that when things come down to the wire, the German people will do what is right as they did in conflicts past; as the quarians did in our times of crisis. They had every opportunity to abandon us in the first years, to cut their losses and find other allies. They did not. They stuck to us and at the sacrifice of thousands of lives; they destroyed the National Socialist slave bonds and looming Bolshevik slavery that lurked in the east. It is only right that we pay back their resolve and sacrifice with resolve and sacrifice of our own."_

"Daeli?" Nytalia interrupted Daelia's concentration. "How was Cades? Did you fancy him?"

Daelia did not turn away from the screen as she heard her sister's question, even as she tried to stir up a reaction to her annoying pet name variant. Slowly, she bit her lip as her fingers fidgeted in her lap. She held her eyes on General Hoch's defense of free speech.

"He… well… he didn't exactly show up," she admitted casually to her sibling.

There was only one moment of silence between the two of them. In an instant, all the calmness the pregnant woman was projecting flickered out. Replacing it was a shaking fury and an audible growl from the flustered sister. Nytalia launched herself out of her seat and blocked Daelia's view of the monitor.

"_Seriously? He didn't show up?"_ she repeated, her voice breathless as she stared in disgust. "Why that low bred _bosh'tet…_ I told that bastard where and when. I thought he would be interested for sure!"

Daelia shrugged. She wasn't particularly bothered by what happened. It wasn't exactly the first time she had been abandoned or put in an embarrassing. It was just the sort of thing she had long ago learned to live with. Apparently it was something that still offended Nytalia to no end. Naturally, she was normal. Rejection wasn't exactly a state she was used to.

"Perhaps he read a little bit into me... figured out who he was being set up with," Daelia murmured as she tried to look around her sister. "I said it wasn't a good idea."

The answer was not going enough for her sister. Nytalia moved once again in order to stay in Daelia's line of sight. The anger she had held for… for… for whoever it was that she tried to set up Daelia up with was being suppressed. Daelia's eyes fell as she looked at her sister's hands reaching out to take hers.

"Well, still... you came in pretty late," she pointed out, glancing at the chronometer on the monitor. "Why didn't you call? Jorah or I could have picked you up right away. We could have gone to Cades' place and I could have beaten him up… or sic Jorah on him," she paused for a moment and smirked as she added. "At the very least I would have scoped you out a nice looking guy myself."

Blanching at the suggestion of violence done in her name, Daelia shook her head and awkwardly patted her sister's arm. Just like old times, Nytalia took Daelia's hand and dragged her to sit down on the couch. Daelia did not resist as she collapsed into the seat next to her. She did not react as her sister once again violated her personal space by laying her head down on Daelia's lap. The affection always bothered her. She just did not know how to tell Nytalia off about it.

"I... ahhh….I sort of stayed around the restaurant," Daelia admitted to her sister, who was staring up at her still. "I had some dinner and drinks with someone who was there alone as well."

Naturally the admittance did not get past Nytalia. Her eyes lit up at the implications she was already developing.

"Really now?" she brightly echoed. "Did you have fun at least?"

Daelia could only really shrug.

"I… I suppose so…" Daelia admitted carefully, her eyes remaining adverted from her sister's gaze. "He didn't exactly push me into conversations or start conversations. That was… that was nice. Hi name was Adam… ahh… Adam Ackerson."

Any and all humour vanished from out of Nytalia's expression. Her face instead contorted into a look of shock and uneasiness at the realization that Daelia spent the evening in close quarters with a human of all things.

"A human… You went on a date with a human?" she breathed unsteadily. She looked close to exploding with laughter at the concept of her sibling consorting with an alien in that sort of way.

"It wasn't a _date_!" Daelia vigorously defended herself from her sister's light teasing. "I guess I looked upset and he invited me to join him for a drink, which I really needed anyway. Our priorities merged, so I joined him. There was no suggestion or consent that it was a date in any way, shape or form. Later on he was hungry, and I was hungry and I had a table reserved anyway."

Nytalia displayed an awful smile.

"That's a date, Daelia," he just had to point out. "Albeit an improvised one, but a date nonetheless… boy you work fast… and with a five finger to boot! Was he at least attractive? They aren't bad to look at… I guess…"

Daelia could only groan, giving her sibling another chance to laugh lightly at her expense. Eventually she squinted at her sister. Although she did not reply to the remark, she did internally debate whether or not the human was attractive. She was never really one to judge a person purely on their skin deep traits. Too many variables left unsearched. She supposed that objectively, he wasn't bad to look at ascetically. But there was a much more valuable trait that she appreciated: He wasn't pushy; which was a refreshing to find. He did not impose conversations; he did not impose his opinions. He spoke only when she found it in her to speak. It felt… so easy.

"So…" Nytalia asked rather awkwardly. "Did you at least get his contact information?"

The words, the simple curiosity was enough to make Daelia's eyes widen in shock. Daelia did not reply as she turned away. Her brain furiously attempted to remember what transpired. She could remember bits and pieces of the dinner, of the conversations that transpired between Adam and her when they happened, but after that her mind was a blank. It was not uncommon to happen. In social situations it was just how she coped with her unnerving fear of personal interaction – by turning her brain off until the so-called danger had passed.

She could… remember… some of it. At the end when Adam walked her out. He mentioned he had… a private driver; he said he could give her a ride to her home if she cared for one. She… declined, got a taxi. She could hear him ask for something, but by that time she had already fled to the security that was the taxi and was already buried in her novel… Had he asked to see her again? Keelah, had she really been so rude to him? Why couldn't she just pause and carefully consider what somebody had to say on the spot rather than an hour later!

"You seem to like him enough to share a drink and dinner," she heard her sister say somewhere under her. "I bet you-"

Daelia heart was pounding her breathing caught up in her lungs and her self-loathing mashed together, forming the perfect storm of guilt and disgust.

"I… I forgot, okay!" Daelia suddenly exploded, losing her control and reverting back to her primitive frightfulness. "I messed up yet again…. I-I _FUCKED_ up! Are you happy?!"

With the desire to pace and mutter and the inevitable hyperventilation overloading her mind building up, Daelia suddenly found herself pinned underneath her sister, who was twenty or so pounds heavier than she last had to do this. Nytalia's arms wrapped around her sister and her hands worked circles into her spine.

"Just… breath, will you?…" Nytalia whispered into her panicked sister's ear. "Stay there, I'll get your medications… okay love?"

Biting her lip hard in order to force herself from screaming out, Daelia nodded her head and watched as Nytalia clambered off her and half sprinted to the kitchen. Daelia buried her head into her lap and her hands wrapped around her skull. Her mind was a blank as she focused all her attention on breathing as her sister begged her to do. Within moments Nytalia was back, a bottle of her anti-anxiety pills and a glass of water in each hand.

She bent down in front of Daelia, unscrewed the cap and placed two pills into Daelia's hand. Daelia immediately swallowed the pills and took the water with her shaking hands. Her eyes were closed as she felt Nytalia running her cool hand over her cheek. The pills nearly had an instantaneous effect. At least that was how it felt to her. She didn't know just how long time had passed by, but Nytalia was still there, sitting on the floor in front of her younger sister, her pretty face scrunched up in worry.

"Sorry," was all that Daelia could mumble out.

Nytalia smiled and shook her head. She brought herself up to her knees and placed her lips against Daelia's sweating forehead. Nytalia sighed and took a seat next to her sibling. She reached over and pulled Daelia's hands into her own lap.

"Look, I know I seem to push you into things… But I just want you to be happy. It's what everyone would want for you," she spoke softly to Daelia "I'm not saying having someone will make you happy, but it couldn't hurt to have someone out there who cares. I'm sorry if I triggered something tonight…"

Shrugging, Daelia turned to look to her sister for a moment before averting her eyes so she remained dead locked onto her knees.

"Maybe I'm happy enough with just you."

"But it's not _just_ me you have," Nytalia reminded Daelia. A tone of urgency crossed into her voice. "Mom and Dad are holding a dinner on Friday. They wanted me to remind you about it. I'd like it if you came. We all would like you to come."

Still Daelia did not look up. Then the words spilled out of her mouth. She did not mean to, she did not want to. It just sort of… happened…

"They're not our parents," Daelia mumbled to herself.

Daelia did not speak the words maliciously or with any form of disillusionment. It was just a statement of fact. They were not their mother and Father. They were adoptive parents. But clearly that was all it took to destroy the cool, collective nature of Nytalia'Xen. She may not have been malicious, but it was enough to make Nytalia's expression contort into a look of pain. Like Daelia had reached out and slapped her hard.

Without warning, she launched herself off the couch and headed to the coat rack near the door. Her eyes formed into a look of furious rage caused by the blunt words of her younger sister.

"You're right, just what the _hell_ was I thinking?" Nytalia growled as she pulled furiously on her coat, her head shaking back and forth. "_Fuck_ the twenty years that they raised and loved us like their own blood, right?"

Nytalia paused and turned around to look down on her sister. Daelia remained perfectly motionless. The drugs flowing in her system numbed any and all emotions she might have felt about her sister's flare up of anger. However, just because she did not show it, did not mean she was unperturbed by it.

Daelia knew that Nytalia was right about these sorts of thing. She was just being insensitive. Malana and Joru'Zorah were like flesh and blood in some ways, but no matter how much unconditional love and support they held for the orphaned Vael sisters, Daelia could not so easily forget her mother and father the same way that Nytalia apparently had… or the others they lost that day.

"Sorry… It's just… hormones," Nytalia mumbled as she strained to tie her heavy coat over her bulge. "Just… just come if you like, or I'll make your excuse up as I have every other week... I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

Daelia looked up into the pained expression of her sister and nodded. She wanted to say something, anything to affirm that she did love and respect the Zorah's, but she simply lacked the power to do so. Nytalia offered her a melancholy smile and a wave as she departed her sister's company.

As the door closed behind Nytalia, Daelia turned her dulled attention back to the monitor. The roundtable conversation was drawing to a close.

"_I want to thank all of our panelists this hour," _Bruckmann concluded. He turned to General Von Hoch and added,_ "It's a pleasure to find a Prussian Junker military man with a refreshing view."_

Jochen von Hoch smiled easily at the complement he received.

"_What can I say?" _the young general inclined his head to one side._ "The last thing I need right now are my parents calling me tonight to berate me for not defending the freedom's which they and my brother Gerald sacrificed so much for." _

As the panel concluded, guilt seeped into her drug laced mind. Daelia turned off the monitor and dragged herself off the couch. All she wanted now was to sleep and forget that this evening ever happened.

**…**

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><p><strong>…<strong>

**This took a little longer than I thought it would. It had to go through several revisions and rewrites.**

**Daelia'Vael is going to be the first challenge I have set myself up for since first creating Joachim Hoch and Hanala'Jarva. She's simply different. It will be fun, but challenging to grow her into someone as fleshed out as Hoch and Hanala were. The challenge will be to make her impaired, but not reliant on other characters and most importantly, able to stand up to other, much more confident men and women who will be crossing her path. Fragile, but not weak is the end game goal.  
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**One big recent change was giving Daelia a sister. Nytalia'Xen is now one of my favourite new additions. She will be fun to write.**

**Another thing of note was the introduction of Jochen Hoch. In earlier works I described him as a pompous traditionalist, a real bastard and a pain in the ass to John Hoch. Now I plan on doing something different. Still a pain in the backside because of his position as 'the one sane Hoch', but not unsympathetically so. As the story progresses, I am hoping to split the readers up in to two camps- Team John Hoch and Team Jochen Hoch. I imagine it will be uneven at first, but things are going to happen.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Little Pushes

**Chapter Four: Little Pushes**

**...**

"_Adam Ackerson! Adam slow down this instant or I'll have you deported and your child formally adopted into the Hoch family!"_

The calling of his name made Adam freeze and turn back. He felt immediately guilty as he saw Hanala Hoch lagging so far behind him.

_Shit_… his head was somewhere else today. Deciding to take pity on the old woman, Adam sprinted back towards her, an apologetic expression on his face for the scowling former Admiral, who was tapping her foot, her arms crossed. Even at her age, Adam had to admit she was still somewhat intimidating. She was still the same woman who spent the better part of her life killing off her enemies.

To say that he had been distracted would have an understatement. It had been three days since his fateful night out - the night he stumbled into the odd enigma that was Daelia'Vael. He was filled with a strange, sickening feeling of regret that was fuelling him. It was an indictment of his passiveness which he must have developed at some point during the early stages of his fatherhood. He certainly wasn't shy in his late teens to mid-twenties.

Of course, this wasn't entirely his fault. While he might have been a much more cautious man then he once was. He did make it a point to ask Daelia'Vael for her contact information at the end of the night. She did not respond to the request. She just sort of mumbled a farewell and left in the next taxi that passed.

Perhaps… perhaps it had been a terrible evening for her. On top of being stood up, she was stuck in an awkward half-date that she did not feel comfortable committing to, but was too polite not to deny him her time. If that was the case, then he would have loved to at least apologize for placing her in that position. But no, instead he was stuck left with a feeling that he had done something terrible.

As Adam reached Hanala, he put on his smiling mask and erased any trace of emotion regarding his failure to capture the attention of another. The last thing, the absolute last thing he wanted to do right now was to display his vulnerabilities to a Hoch. It was not so much a fear that they would be cruel. It was just that the Hoch family was close. If one knew about something, it would be days… maybe hours before they all knew. And while most of them would respect his wishes to keep it private, John Hoch would inevitability be the one to interfere, and John's interference was rarely a good thing.

"I'm sorry Frau Hoch," Adam apologized right away. "I guess my mind was somewhere else... on Amala, I mean."

The flub seemed to have worked. Exhaling sharply, Hanala rolled her eyes and stepped forward to close the gap between them, one hand on her back. She had just finished her third kilometre around Greater Wannsee. It was a considerable accomplishment considering both her age and that this time, two years ago, she could barely hobble jog more than fifty metres thanks to her age and the lapse into apathy both her and Joachim collapsed in, as it seemed inevitable with old age.

But as they quickly learned, it was all in their head. The moment John Hoch hired him on as their personal physician, all of that sort of negative thinking all changed. Old age excuses were thrown completely out the window. Before they knew it, the couple were on vigorous daily exercise regiments of cardio, weight lifting, aerobics and swimming. Eventually it included a total diet and lifestyle change, which included Adam throwing out all of their alcohol and cigarettes. It must have been a real shock for them at the time. It was no surprise why Joachim Hoch absolutely abhorred him for the first year.

But as much as they wanted to complain, the results spoke for themselves, forcing the pair to respect what he was doing for them. Lung capacity improved, clarity from a sober mind sharpened them. They each lost quite a bit of weight and were now as healthy as they could be, considering their advance age and various reoccurring ailments. They were more or less back in the prime of their life. Well… Hanala was at least, Joachim was a little more lethargic judging by his conspicuous lack of willingness to be on today's lap around the lake.

"Well… return back to Earth while you're in my company, please," Hanala replied as stopped next to him. "I'm not as spry as you are."

Adam chuckled slightly at the remark and shook his head.

"Don't be so quick to count yourself out," he warmly reassured her. "At least you came for the run. More than I can say about that husband of yours."

Next to him, Hanala wheezed out a chuckle. She shook her head.

"Give him a break. When the grandchildren are around, you know Joachim isn't going to skip a visit even for an hour," Hanala defended her husband from Adam's scrutiny. "The same goes for me, naturally, but right now it's better to be out here with you… away from the means to communicate with the outside world…"

Adam did not get a chance to ask what the matter was. He really did not have a choice in it. When Hanala needed to unwind, she was going to unwind whether the person she was speaking to wanted to hear it or not.

"Keelah, Adam, it seems like every other day I get a letter from Kaiser Victor-Marius Ferdinand's stewards, asking me to be his counsel as I had been for his Grandfather," Hanala grumbled to him, picking up her pace to keep up with him. "Why don't they understand that I'm retired? I haven't played politics in over fifteen years. You could hand me the keys to the coffers of the Reich and I would still refuse."

All Adam could really do was smile sympathetically.

These were matters; Adam could honestly say he had no clue to aid her with. He wasn't a politician, he hadn't been in the military for nearly eleven years, and even then he did not make it over the rank of Feldwebel. These were things beyond his understanding. All he knew was what Hanala was saying, and judging on her words, it sounded as though she had to have offered the Kaiser before Victor some very sound advice.

Louis-Ferdinand was a good and just Kaiser, who instead of abusing his power, sought to re-establish the Reichstag and successfully forced the Wehrmacht Council into the Casablanca deal. Only hours before the Casablanca Peace Summit, the new Kaiser gathered the leaders of the Wehrmacht Council and brought forth the deal that stood to this day: The Kaiser would hand over authority of the Reich to the Wehrmacht in times of dire emergency. In return, the Wehrmacht would not interfere with the creation of the new Reichstag government and swear their fealty to Hohenzollern family in peacetime with the solemn promise that no Kaiser would interfere in the affairs of the military unless said future Kaiser was inside the Wehrmacht General Staff before his ascendancy to the throne.

All in all, this deal satisfied the Wehrmacht immensely. Never again would they have to serve at the will of incompetent military leaders like Wilhelm II or the whims of a gifted amateur, but dangerously stubborn man, like Hitler again. They would control the virtually all aspects of the nation in a state of war and would relinquish control when a third party –the Quarian Mandate- declared the emergency had passed.

"Nostalgia I suppose," Adam replied after the moment silence. "Most of the advisors remember when you were the centre of the political dealings to the Kaiser."

Next to him he saw Hanala roll her eyes in apparent disgust at the statement.

"_Nostalgia_… great, so it's official: I am now a relic to be used as some sort of image campaign. I am officially the quarian Otto von Bismarck," Hanala complained as she took Adam's arm. "Do me a favour Adam and don't get old. It's a terrible thing. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemies... which is probably why I had all my old enemies killed in their youth."

Hanala sighed and trailed off, shaking her head wearily. She did not seem to notice that her words somewhat shocked Adam. She turned her eyes back to Adam and scanned him carefully. She seemed to have noticed something.

"And what about you, Adam?" she spoke again. "You are not exactly the pinnacle display of concentration today. Is there something wrong?"

Remaining silent, Adam turned away. The last thing he wanted to do was trouble a woman of her renown with something as petty as an infatuation that was plaguing him to no end. But as he felt Hanala squeeze his arm, he knew better than to keep a heavy silence between them. Hanala was an excellent judge in people and stubborn. She would need to be placated before he got a break from her curiosity.

"No… well, I guess I'm already worrying about next year," Adam confessed to the Grandmother. "Amala starts Kindergarten and I've got free time to myself for the first time in years. I'm not sure with what I'm going to do with all that."

It wasn't exactly what was on his mind that kept him distracted today. However it was not a flat out lie either. Amala was growing up and Adam would never be able to maintain a life that was devoted 120 percent around her. She had to be given a chance to go out there and explore her world and herself. She did not need an obsessive helicopter parent keeping her grounded. She was only four, about to turn five, but it was better to start small detachments sooner than later.

"Well, you had best find something for yourself, Adam," Hanala warned him. Her tone amused by his half-truth. "Being a parent does not mean you have to dedicate every waking moment to a child. You are permitted to having some sort of life."

Happy that the experienced parent had come to the exact same conclusion, Adam nodded and let go of the octogenarian. Cracking his shoulders, he picked up his pace and turned back to Hanala. Adam clapped his hands together.

"Alight, enough talk," Adam barked at her, feigning a disciplinarian tone. "Give me one more kilometre and we'll speed walk the rest of the way back, Hanala."

All Hanala could do was scowl at him at first. It was a facial expression that made Adam grin.

"Oh Keelah… I hate you, boy... I really, _REALLY_ do." She growled as she sped up her pace to match his.

**…**

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><p><strong>…<strong>

The Hoch family Wannsee summer home was literally packed with Hoch's when Hanala and Adam finally returned from their jog. It was not exactly an uncommon sight on the weekend, as Hanala and Joachim more or less decreed to their children that no matter what, everyone came home on Saturday to sit down to a nice family dinner. It was not always achieved, but at least it was a conscious effort to do so and usually most of the children came home.

It was rather nice Adam always thought. If he had to guess why this tradition had been started, he supposed it would have been between Joachim likely swearing that the Hoch family was not going to be as distant as the Hoch family he grew up with and Hanala, whose own parents were so busy managing the Migrant fleet, they too did not spend as much time together as she would have liked. They went out of their way to be there for their children, which Adam loved and intended on emulating with Amala when she was grown up.

Like Joachim, Adam too was never particularly close to his birth family either. His parents were divorced from an early; his siblings Stephen and Lauren were set on their different ideas of how to live life. The only thing that unified them was the topic of Adam answering the Fatherland's call when he was only 17. They could not believe it when at Christmas he announced his intentions of leaving North America to go to the two places that they were all taught to fear and hate.

In the end, it took over 8 years for Adam to pluck up the courage to return home. No longer in the Wehrmacht, but a rookie physician just hired by John Hoch and bringing home with him a two year old girl no less. To say it must have been a surprise was an understatement. The trip home did not exactly go well and within a week and a half, he left. Canada, Vancouver, his family… they were just not who he was anymore. It was a terrible feeling to lose what nostalgia he may have had, but at least he knew that he belonged in his adopted Reich.

As Hanala and Adam entered the home, they were immediately overwhelmed by Jochen and Constanze von Hoch's brood of six children… seven judging from Constanze's maternity dress and the excited expression Joachim Hoch was wearing as he spoke to his daughter-in-law. Giving Jochen a nod and deciding to give the Hoch's some space, Adam excused himself from Hanala's company and slipped away further into the home.

"_Adaaam… you're all sweaty,"_ he heard catcalled at him_. "Would you like me to help rectify that?"_

Adam swung his head around as giggling broke. Sitting in the lounge were the twins, Haeva and Erika. Although it had been Haeva's cat call, it was both of them were clearly intoxicated and leering at him like he was their personal boy toy. Adam chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck as Haeva stood up and staggered slightly towards him.

"As always, a tempting offer Haeva… and you, Erika, but that Generalmajor brother of yours is here," Adam replied as he backed away, offering the two women a playful grin. "The last thing I need is to be skinned alive by him, right?"

Haeva smirked and buried her face back into her tall glass of hard liquor. Erika flashed her teeth and waved, all her fingers wagging one by one up and down. Shaking his head, Adam left before the two clearly sexually dominate women decided to make true on their offer. Those two were sheer trouble that he did not want to step into.

Erasing the lewd thoughts about the two older women, John paused as tapping caught his attention first and then found himself looking at an increasingly rare sight to see. Sitting on the bottom steps leading upstairs was Galina. Her data pads scattered around her as she worked. Her hair was frazzled as though she was dragged out of bed to be here, or perhaps she hadn't slept at all. Whatever the case it was nice to see her out and about.

"Hello Galina," he greeted her politely. "I take it John is in?"

Galina bucked her head up. She looked as though she was a woman possessed. Her shock vanished and instead she gave him a flash of a smile before turning her head back to her datapad. Her eyes were darting back and forth as she read the code, or whatever it was in front of her.

"Yes," she spoke, clearly exacerbated by that fact apparently. "He, Amala and Candace are being obnoxiously loud. I was told specifically by John that we would be spending the afternoon working on nervous system filters."

Amala and Candace… of course it was them. Both Amala and Erika's daughter when combined with Uncle John was trouble. Amala looked up to Candace as though she was her sibling. It was sweet, and as much as Adam liked that Amala too was finding connections inside the Hoch family, but good god could they get in trouble! It also did not help when John was involved. He was every bit the instigator in the second generation of Hoch children as he likely had been in the first.

"Well you know John, he has to be the cool Uncle," Adam mused as he stepped by Galina, carefully avoiding messing up her scattered work. "Perhaps I can settle it down a little, okay?"

As Galina murmured a _"Thank you"_ to him without looking up to him, Adam paused and shook his head. Something very familiar washed over him. He quickly shook it off and purged the concept that Galina seemed somehow… different to him.

**…**

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

"That's it, Candace… kill the Soviets! Burn them out of their hole! Use the flamethrower! Make it their funeral pyre!"

John exploded into a cheer as he watched Cadence swing her Jagdpanzer 38(t) Hetzer with flamethrower modification down into the Soviet trench and poured gallons of tar and gasoline fire onto the enemy line. John howled out in excitement and raised his Mg-42 to spray the conscripts screaming as they stumbled out of the trench in flames. He stood up and climbed onto the back of the Jagdpanzer and together they charged over the line.

"What is this?"

Looking away from the screen, John grinned as he looked at the flabbergasted Adam Ackerson, standing there coated in sweat and in a muscle shirt and shorts. Ignoring Candace's protests, John paused '_Kampfgruppe 3: Road to Moscow'_ and stood up from the spot on the floor he was sprawled on, laying in between Candace and Amala, who was still on the ground, eating the imported American candies he had bought for them.

"Look who it is, Amala," he playfully jeered. "Your dad is here to stink up the study!"

Adam crossed his arms. He was clearly annoyed by what he was looking at.

"Better to stink then play video games and eat candy," Adam stated flatly to the three of them. In response, Candace stuck her tongue out at him and blew a raspberry in his general direction, John joined in by groaning theatrically at the health nut.

"Nuh-uh!" Amala defended herself fiercely from her Father's displeasure.

"Let them have some fun, you spoilsport," John roared at Adam. Exhaling he turned to the girls and added. "We'll continue this game later. The Soviets think they can beat us? We'll show them not to mess with us**!"**

Candace launched herself up from the floor.

"_Smash the Bolshevik bastards!" _Candace screamed. Her fist flew into the air for a moment before she did a perfect imitation of her uncle Jochen, goosestep and all. It took all of John's efforts not to explode into laughter, or scream out orders at her to make the sight feel even more complete.

"_Communism is slavery!"_ Amala echoed her pseudo-sibling. Whether she knew or not what she was saying was unknown to John. Unlike Candace, who stormed out Amala gathered up all the sweets for them to wolf down before Adam seized it from them and followed Candace out of the room, only pausing as Adam reached down to peck the top of her head.

Adam straightened up and turned back to face John, who buried his hands into his jeans and attempted to not flat out laugh. This was everything Adam tried to keep Amala away from.

"Teaching them anti-communism, and loading them up on sugar?" Adam observed, for the first time sounding somewhat amused "Nice, real nice, John. Thanks for the help."

John waved his hand in the air and brushed off his shirt. He walked over to the desk and took a seat. His eyes followed Adam closely. Erika, Haeva and Mother had all told him that Adam had been acting strangely for the past several days. He was steadfast silent about the matter, but it was obvious that something was up with him. So far their assessment seemed correct. Adam seemed significantly tenser than usual.

So in his typical M.O, John decided to take the direct root.

"Adam, you're being a mopey bastard for the past three days. Don't bullshit me like you did the others… what's up?" John decided to call out to him. Three days was more than enough time to give the doctor his space. Now it was time to figure out what in the hell was up with him.

Adam turned and looked at him. He stared at John incredulously, as though he was surprised that he was being called out. Standing up, John did not blink, he did not breathe; he simply held the stare he inherited from his Father on the younger man. It was the expression that told everyone it was best to not fuck around with him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Adam stepped forward.

"I went out for drinks the other night… sort of an order by your Father, you see," he reluctantly admitted to his employer. "I think I might have met someone... She was stood up by her date, so I invited her for a drink. We ended up having dinner…"

Relaxing his expression, John had to admit that he was rather surprised by this turn of events. Since… well since the death of his wife, Adam wasn't exactly the pinnacle of interaction. He stayed close to home and stepped carefully around others. Now he was going out, drinking and meeting women? It was a refreshing change up…

"That's great to hear," John found his voice. "So what's the problem?"

Adam groaned and pressed his hand to his face.

"I didn't get any of her information!" Adam angrily retorted, his anger directed to himself. "I've been searching social media with what I know, but I turned up nothing at all. I asked, but she just sort of fled. Am I that terrible?"

Wincing at the cringe-inducing failure that was Adam Ackerson, John stepped forward. This was unbelievably embarrassing.

"So let me get this straight," John clarified aloud, his mouth spreading wide open as he clasped his younger friend on the back. "You need old John Hoch to help get you laid?"

Adam's head snapped up and stared at John.

"_What_?" Adam cried out in dismay. "No! I mean, a date would suffice… I think a date is preferable then just sex."

John's laughter only intensified at Adam's denial of his personal needs. Christ, who the hell was he trying to fool? The poor guy clearly only had one meaningful personal relationship at the moment, and that was with his child. He needed something more or he would end up as stir crazy as most pious people became.

"Laid," John repeated, feigning an obvious nature as he absorbed what Adam really wanted. "After four years of chastity, Adam Ackerson is ready to ride the next girl who opens her legs for him."

John stood up and wandered over to the liquor cabinet. This conversation called for a celebratory drink. He was proud that his friend was finally ready to step out of the comfort zone he had hid himself inside of for the better part of four years. John was not completely heartless to the reasons why he did it, but a year was sufficient, two was pushing. But Adam in his nobility, or perhaps grief just had to make it nearly half a decade.

"You know, the last thing you'll want is a relationship right now," John mused as he pulled out a bottle of forty year old scotch whiskey. "Better to keep it casual while you bang the rust off your cock, am I right?"

"Sweet Jesus _Christ_," Adam groaned, utterly infuriated by John's words in record time, "why did I even tell you this!?"

Pouring the scotch into two scotch glasses, John stood up straight as he carried the drinks over to the commiserating Adam. His hand was on the back of his head as though this whole thing had been one serious embarrassment to him. It did not take a genius to figure out why. There once was a time when Adam was able to charm even the most reserve woman into going on a date… namely in his case Alexandria McKellan all those years ago.

To Adam's credit, it was a feat that John was incapable of doing in the thirty years he had known her, and not for a lack of trying on his part. She was a damn good woman and out of all the women he knew outside of his family, she was one of only two women was a direct challenge he had ever gotten, and of the two, the only one that he never slept with. He supposed they were like mirrored reflections -close, inescapable, but untouchable to one another…

_Jesus Christ_… John missed the hell out of her.

"Because you're socially retarded and you can't seal the deal anymore," John carefully explained as though Adam had been a toddler, his humour forcing the dull pain in his gut to recede. "Not to worry, I'll get you riding that horse again. So, what's her name then?"

As John handed Adam his two fingers of scotch and ice, he smirked openly at the angry expression on the younger doctor's face. It was so very easy to rile him up over a few colourful words directed at him. It was all in good nature and by now Adam most certainly had to understand that. He did not press the topic as they sipped their drinks. It was better to just let Adam's natural inclination to tell the truth wash over him.

It did not take particularly long to get what he wanted in the end.

"Her name is Daelia'Vael," Adam finally spoke to him, still a little leery about telling John this sort of information freely. "She lives in Pankow; she mentioned she had a sister. Not much else was revealed during our interaction. She liked to be sparse on conversation. She wasn't cold or aloof or anything… she just seemed… shy, I suppose."

_Vael… Daelia'Vael…_ John buried any and all desire to react as he listened to Adam go about describing a young woman that he already knew about in passing.

She was not Daelia'Vael -not anymore at least. She was, in fact, Daelia'Zorah, the adopted child of Joru'Zorah, who in turn was the youngest son of the late Admiral Halid'Zorah. Joru was only five or six years older than John was. Both he and his young wife, Malana adopted two orphaned girls from the torn up Vael clan in mid-1978 following the death of their entire family at the hands of Islamist terrorists as a part of the long guerrilla campaign against the quarians following the annexation of nearly the entirety of the region.

It was a tragic story, to be sure, but all of this was just heard by him in passing second hand. All of this occurred just after he had gotten home and was putting together all his resources together to unlock quarian technology and get his funding together to start Daedalus Foundation. The Zorah family was naturally watched very closely by the Jarva/Hoch family considering their long tumultuous past dealings with the conniving bastard of a patriarch Halid'Zorah. John himself had his dealings with Halid in the years leading up to his death in 1988. But for the most part the latest incantation of the Zorah family had mellowed out significantly. They had taken back up their traditional role as soldiers to the quarian people.

Simple, perhaps, but preferable to the web of deceit and manipulation that the family collapsed into during the early days. Even Father was starting to see the value in the Zorah clan, and that miserable bastard spent the year serving as Zorah's sledgehammer!

"A quarian… interesting," John finally spoke to Adam. "Have you ever been with a quarian before? Wear a condom for the first time or so. The itch is terrible. I know it's not something I should bring up, but my Father warned all of my brothers and me about having sex with members of the opposite species by age 12. Let me tell you right now just how fucking traumatizing having to listen to your Father talk about sex with your mother..."

"John!" Adam roared out, he appeared both scandalized and embarrassed that Hoch had probably delved a little too deep into personal details. John chuckled as he cross one leg over the other and watched as John leaned against the table. He was clearly flustered by the topic at hand had spiralled so far out of his control.

"Look, this isn't _just_ about sex, John," he spoke again, keeping his voice as steady as it could. "She's just… _interesting_. I want to see her again to see if she's the real thing."

As Adam bowed his head slightly, not paying mind to John, who was squinting at him. There was something different in the way Adam was speaking. It was something he hadn't seen in many years now. Adam had only one passion these days, and that was Amala. What was happening here and now was a flickering of life that Adam swore up and down would likely never happen again.

Well despite his uneasiness with handing Adam over to adopted members of clan Zorah, he would not discourage this either. John made a promise to their mutual connection. He would make sure that Adam would carry on with his life. That he was not going to be left alone to raise a child. While having a family more or less adopt him as one of their own had covered much of what he needed, now it seemed as though the second part of his promise to the late Alexandria McKellan… Ackerson… would now come into effect.

"Right… you're the nice doctor who is only fascinated by what makes her tick…" John sighed as he uncrossed his legs and stood. "Tell you what; I can make some inquiries into the whereabouts your mystery girl. Will that make you wipe that stupid, mopey expression off your face?"

For the first time today, Adam broke his serious demeanour down and permitted himself to laugh. As Adam laughed John went for his cigarettes; but the moment he had one in between his lips, Adam reached out, snatched it from him and broke it.

"You know the rules," Adam snapped out his warning to him. "You hired me to help for a reason, right?"

John rolled his eyes as he remembered just how much of an anti-smoking Nazi Adam was when it came to smoking in the house of John's parents. He bought the house, he paid Adam's salary. Why the hell couldn't he have a cigarette for fuck's sake!?

"It would certainly help stop my 'moping'," Adam sighed finally. "I appreciate what you want to do. But please… could you just give me the information and not interfere? I would prefer it if I did this… you know… on my own time."

John stared at Adam for a moment before he nodded and stepped forward until he was within arms-length of the young Father.

"Of course Adam," John reassured Adam with a pat on his shoulder. "What do you take me for? My noisy sisters?"

**…**

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John glanced at his Rolex. All in all, it took him about an hour to get enough information to pass onto Adam about the whereabouts of this Daelia'Vael woman. All of this could have been given to Adam in a minute or two flat, but as it turned out, John was very much like his noisy sisters, so John decided he had himself a little distraction for Sunday thanks to Adam's failure to secure a date with a chemically imbalanced woman.

Smoking a cigarette in the back seat of his Mercedes, John leaned backwards into his seat. He was currently parked outside of the residence of Jorah and Nytalia'Xen. As he did so, John glanced around to one side as Isabella Ochoa walked down the pathway leading to little home situated just on the outskirts of Potsdam, her jacket open and her sidearm sticking conspicuously out. Why Isabella was here was more of an assurance to the clients than a necessity.

Then again, it wasn't exactly the first time someone tried to ambush him. Perhaps it was better to have Ochoa along after all.

But all of this was an old hat for him, really. While being an industrialist certainly didn't help safeguard him, simply being a Hoch by itself was a rarely safe thing to be. It wasn't until the late 1970's, early 1980's that it became safe enough for the family to not have to look over their shoulder at all times. He remembered in his youth having a personal guard detail provided to Mother and Father when they still held ranks. The Cold War and the many enemies they made during the Civil War made their paranoia justified.

As Isabella reached the car door, John dabbed out his cigarette and waited as Isabella opened the door. She was not looking at him, but rather across the street. John glanced in the direction as well. Across the street was what appeared to be a rather lethal looking flock of middle aged women jogging together and chattering loudly to one another.

"No hidden assassin hiding in the bushes?" he mused as he stood up straight and buttoned his jacket up. "No one claiming I fathered their illegitimate child?"

Isabella slammed the door shut behind him and scowled at the remark her boss offered. She reached over and straightened his tie on his behalf.

"Really funny, boss," she muttered as she tightened the knot. "You know I have to justify my stupidly high take in somehow."

Patting Isabella's cheek twice, John gave her a wink and wandered past her down the pathway to the two-story home. His hands dug into his pockets as a sudden gust of wind picked up. He stopped as soon as he climbed the few stairs and knocked hard on the front door. As he waited, he turned around in spot and pulled out his small flask and took a drink. He smirked as he noticed Ochoa leaning against the car, her eyes rolling as she saw her lush of a boss indulge himself.

As soon as he took a swig, he pocketed the flask. He heard the door unlock and crack open. He swung right around and found himself looking at the image of a quarian Venus standing before him. She appeared frazzled, as though she had been disturbed from her nap. Her hand was supporting the unmistakable bulge of a child.

"Hello," John greeted her warmly. "You would not happen to be Nytalia'Xen by any chance?"

The pregnant quarian woman's eyes bulged outwards naturally. It was sort of an expected response that John rather liked if he was being honest. It was good for his ego, which could always fine the time for a good inflation.

"I take it that you are you aware of who I am?" He tacked on.

There was no note of arrogance or smugness in his voice –or so he hoped at least- it was just a curiosity to make sure. He remained silent as the woman seemed to struggle to find a way to say yes. Defeated, Nytalia'Xen simply nodded her head in a strained acknowledgement.

"Good, that will save some time," John replied briskly. "May I come in? I promise you I will keep this brief."

He smiled again as the woman stepped out of the doorway and gestured to join her inside. John stepped in and glanced around the house for a good long moment. He then turned back to the owner, who was picking a few items up in a vain attempt to unclutter, as though she was embarrassed.

"Can I make you anything?" Nytalia suddenly asked. Embarrassed by her outburst, she rubbed her neck and sheepishly added, "I don't exactly stock our home with food edible for humans, but I know I have teabags… just no dairy and sugar…

Fine with the lack of condiments, John inclined his head and watched as the woman stepped away to put the kettle on. As she left, it gave John an opportunity to look around undisturbed. His eyes scanned the many pictures on the wall. Two separate families were on display, as if one family took over after the other was wiped out.

Only one constant remained in Nytalia's family display, and that was Daelia. Her expression hidden behind dark locks was almost always the same: A bewilderment, or perhaps shyness. Never a smile crossed her mouth. She was clearly uncomfortable in the images. It was an expression that John knew all too well about.

Was this really something Adam would be able to handle? If it had been and knowing Adam's penchant for being the toy to older women, then John would have went out of his way in hooking him up with Galina. There was a reason why Galina had little in the way of interaction with people outside her immediate family, and by immediate family he meant her parents and siblings. Nieces, nephews, the spouses, they got zero in the way of interaction.

As sensitive as he was to HOCCD -Hyperactive Obsessive Comprehension and Compulsion Disorder, John knew better than to sugar-coat the condition, or how much this sort of relation could damage everything and everyone involved. It would be hell to befriend someone with the disorder, let alone date one… and on top of that introduce a child into the mix. And as complicated as it was going to be for Adam, it would quite easily become a nightmare for Daelia. There would be too many variables for her, too much chaos and a lack of control. She would have to put a herculean effort into keeping herself under control.

As he heard heavy footsteps trudge behind him, John turned away and smiled yet again as soon as Nytalia joined him once again.

"This is quite the lovely little home you've made," he complimented as he stepped forward. Gesturing to her, he added. "And by the way, my congratulations on your future bundle of joy. Rannoch will need all the young settlers it can get."

Nytalia emitted a small, nervous laugh as she rubbed the back of her neck. As John pulled off his overcoat, she stepped forward and took it from his hands.

"Thank you," she murmured as she hung the jacket up on her coat rack. "I… don't mean to be rude, Herr Hoch, I assume you did not come here to discuss the future of my unborn child."

As John stared at her for a careful moment, he wondered privately if he should make an apology. Perhaps he was coming across as to debonair for her taste. He had to remember that he wasn't here to sleep with the poor women, but to help to achieve a mutual interest…

"You see, I came here on behalf of someone," John started back up once again, dialling back his tone significantly. "It is of concern to you, but not something that is directed at you. It has to do with your sister… do you know where I am going with this?"

Naturally, Nytalia looked at John as though he had had causally announced he had shot her husband.

"Why, your dear little sister of course!" John exclaimed brightly "Well… you see she has left my friend with an aching heart and too stupid and cowed to do anything about it. I normally don't play Cupid for a grown man, but I am getting tired of watching him mope around pretending that his heart isn't buried in his stomach."

He watched as a dawning of realization cross over Nytalia's expression.

"His name is Adam Ackerson?" Nytalia guessed with a small smile etched on her mouth.

John erupted into a triumphant laugh.

"So he _did_ leave an impression on her," Adam replied rather proudly. "It's good to hear that he's not a complete charmless idiot."

The woman broke down into a soft laugh and a mild grin at John's observation

"Well he certainly did. My sister isn't exactly a social creature. The fact that he was willing to give her all the room she needed was greatly appreciated by her," she spoke quite happily. "Daelia was… well _upset_ with herself that she did not wait long enough to listen to what he had…"

Ceasing her explanation, Nytalia smiled and quickly left the company of John as the whistling of the kettle caught their attention. John exhaled and left the main foyer of the home took a seat in the living room. More holo pictures greeted him once again, this time more varied. They were wedding photos and mementos mostly. Apparently Nytalia and her husband were well travelled for quarians. Quarians rarely ventured outside the mandate and Reich, but here they were photographed on the Great Wall, Saint Petersburg and somewhere in Oceania… Was it New Zealand perhaps? It had to have been, Australia was sheer desert.

John had to admit it was sort of funny to wonder why the quarians didn't just wipe out all the Australians and claim the continent as their own. It would have been of no significant loss to the world. They were just a fake people with a fake identity… what was the point of their existence?

Where ever it was, it impressed John. It was rare to find a quarian willing to venture outside of their comfort zone and into the primitive world they were in exile on. It was sort of hard to convince a quarian to part with the creature comforts that came with their embrace of technology. It was an addiction John knew all too well of.

As Nytalia returned with a cup of tea for John, he stood up and accepted it with a nod and a murmur of '_thanks'_ for her hospitality. He waited until she sat before returned to his seat to sip his piping hot tea carefully. A heavy silence fell between them as the woman shuffled backwards into her seat to take a load off. Her eyes never left him. Apparently she was still struggling to come to grip that John Hoch was sitting in her living room, drinking her cheap tasting tea in a conversation about dating of all things.

"What stage is she?" John spoke up as he set his tea down on the coffee table.

Nytalia seemed somewhat startled by the question. Her eyes darted all over John's face, as if looking for an explanation. With an exhale, John smiled yet again as he looped his fingers together.

"My baby sister, Galina is a Stage 3-b," John explained, hoping to ease her into the conversation. "She could have very easily became a lost case had it not been for her specialized education programs and implantations at an early age. I'm going to take a wild stab and guess that Daelia had a fit when she realized that sort of missed a rather large chunk of her interaction."

As John's admission of personal understanding of the struggles that came with being in a close relationship with a person afflicted with HOCCD seemed to strike a nerve in Nytalia, John took his tea back into his hands and sipped it once again.

"They are candid, aren't they?" he tacked on, offering a grin behind his cup.

Nytalia exploded into a laugh that rocketed throughout the home. Almost immediately her hand flew up and slapped right over her mouth. Her eyes wide like she had done some sort of great evil at laughing at the expense of her sibling. It was not the reaction John would have thought to stifle. If there was one thing he learned from 37 years of being siblings with Galina, it was that she never wanted to be coddled… she just wanted to be treated the same… even if it meant she was at the butt of a joke or blunt observation.

"Yes…" Nytalia admitted shyly, "Daelia has very little in the way of varying degrees of communication. Either she's brutally honest, or she's silent as the grave."

It was John's turn to chuckle.

"Yeah, I know that," John concurred. "When Galina was 13 she was doing a project about her family tree. She stood up quite nonchalantly and told her classmates that our mother had six miscarriages before she was conceived… and the kids called her '_Seven'_ for years. She did not acknowledge it until my two other sisters heard it uttered two years after the nickname stuck. You can probably imagine the reaction of my parents if you know of them, even in passing."

John watched as Nytalia's expression became more and more upset with John's little anecdote about his sibling. Perhaps it was a little too personal for a strange to know, but it served a point. At least it did in his head. What he was looking at was another version of his brother Jochen's relationship with Galina. He loved her, but he did not understand her. And in his lack of understanding, he chose instead to pity or, or worse, dismiss her altogether.

"That's… well, that's horrifying," she whispered sympathetically. "Your poor sister…"

John shook his head as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Yes, it was horrifying… but she learned from it, and she's better for it," John explained to her. "It made her stronger… and willing to speak up when she feels something is wrong, but the anxiety screams not to respond… and more able to pay attention to the world around her rather than shield herself…"

Silence fell yet again as he let Nytalia stew in what he was saying. His sister was the pinnacle of strength, but that only happened through personal pain and humiliation on her part. It fuelled her resolve and in the end made her as willful as any of the other mentally healthy Hoch's.

"My sister is a stage 2a," Nytalia blurted out to John finally. "She's independent, but she has her incidents. She generally does not want my help whenever things get too out of hand. The day she turned of age she packed her bags and left the mandate. She hasn't been back since. I followed her here. I still prefer the Mandate. It's where my roots are. But…"

"-But as her sister, whom you love unconditionally… you have centred your life on her," John filled in her silence. "I understand that quite well, believe me."

Leaving the young woman somewhat stunned, Adam swallowed the last of the tea and uncrossed his legs. He stood up and watched as the woman did the same. Deciding that was all he was going to speak to her about, John reached into his jacket and produced a small data card for Nytalia to do as she pleased – preferably the right thing and give it to her younger sibling so that she could take a chance on something.

"Here is all of Adam's contact information," John informed her as he extended the card out to Nytalia. "I was going to ask you for Daelia's, but I think it would be better on Daelia that she make the first move. She might be more comfortable about it. Last thing I imagine she'd want is a strange man calling her… and with that I'll take my leave."

Nytalia stared at the card for a good, long moment. She did not appear to be entirely convinced with everything John was saying to her. John could understand her scepticism. He was, after all, a stranger telling an expectant mother not to coddle someone she cleared loved as much as the child she was carrying.

As sweet as that may have been, ultimately Daelia'Vael was not in need of another mother. She needed to explore outside of the insular world she designed for herself. And she needed Nytalia to be the pillar that supported such a brave move.

Finally after her deliberation, Nytalia reached out and took it from him and held onto as though it was worth more than gold. She frowned again and met his receptive expression with an inquisitive grimace.

"Do you think this is right?" she questioned him. "A human and a quarian, I mean. I… I know that you're come from that sort of home…. but…"

She trailed off helplessly. She clearly meant no offense, so John did not take any away from her concerns. He understood where she was coming from There was a reason why interspecies relationship rarely passed a percentage point. Despite how close the races were, there were still huge gaps in between them. There was simply no guarantee a relation could last… but then again, the same could be said about any other.

"It's not up to us to decide that for her, or him… but I know all too well what you're saying. It's going to be hard work. My sister tried it and ended up divorced…" John spoke as he stepped out of the living room and into the foyer once again, Nytalia hot on his heels. "But frankly Daelia is damaged goods, and so is Adam. I think that if they have something in common, then perhaps they have a chance at something that lasts."

Taking the suddenly confused young woman's hand, John squeezed it for a moment before he collected his jacket and opened the door to leave.

"Wait…" Nytalia spoke as John stepped outside, one hand on her stomach as she followed him onto the front steps. "And just how is he damaged?"

Smiling privately, John washed it off quickly as he turned back to face Nytalia, who was staring at him with her arms crossed.

"Ahhh… but that's a mystery your sister is going to have to find out for herself," John replied as he stepped backwards towards Isabella and his car. "Thank you for the tea… I'm sure we'll be in contact quite soon..."

With that, John left a very confused quarian in his wake. Sort of an old hat, but hey, it was a new way of sorts…this time John hadn't left her violated.

**…**

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**This took a little longer. Sorry. I was writing stuff that I shouldn't write yet. I'm finding that the problem with the next generation is the questions I get about it.**

**You see I impulsively want to answer right away. I have all these plans that want to get out right away. Questions of heritage for example. I can't answer them for the stories sake. I have to wait for the right moment to introduce it or else you get an information overload in the first 3-5 chapters over a multi-story series and I'm left writing a lot of filler.**

**I've been doing some consideration. I have decided I am going to tighten this Generation up a bit. I will be trying to limit both size (150 thousand words or less per story) and the amount of sequels it will have. So far I have cut it down to three. **

**Next chapter we will begin looking into Jochen von Hoch's world.**

_"This makes not only organic military presence necessary, but Ausftragtakik –or mission-type tactics a vital necessity," Jochen explained Von Manstein's techical explaination in simple terms. The commanders on the ground are given a general order by their superior officer. How they set about it is at the prerogative of the officers and men in the action._

_"A tactic that made the actions of the Wehrmacht in the nations they invaded permissible, no matter how horrifying they were," the Danish defence minister spoke a mutter. "It helped the Generals sleep better at night."_

_As the non-Germanic ministers laughed at the shot, Jochen twisted around to defend his predecessors from the Dane's insults. He was stopped however by Von Manstein who gave him a warning look and a clasp on his shoulder. Manstein's warning was clear. Now was not the time to cause an international incident The Pan European alliance that was the European Union had to become a military alliance as well as an economic one. Even if the Danes were lucky to provide perhaps a division, they still needed all the boots on the ground that they could muster for the inevitable battles to smash the geth networks across the Perseus Veil…_

_If their loyalty had a price tag that included insults, then Jochen supposed he had to keep his temper in check. He would not forget it however. If they agreed to the terms, it would be Danish boots that hit the ground fire first if he was placed in charge of them. It was high time for the Scandinavians to relearn what sacrifice truly meant. It was an education which only the Finns understood these days._

**Would you guys like previews if they are available? Or would you not to be teased. Be sure to voice your opinion. Thanks for reading.**


	5. An Encounter

**Sorry for the delay.**

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**Chapter Five: An Encounter**

**…**

Staring at her holomessenger for the 36th time that day, Daelia'Vael sighed as her fingers twirled the data card which had held the source of her sudden fear. She could not keep delaying this. Not for as long as she already had. Today was the day where she stopped acting like a nervous child and acted her age.

Nytalia had dropped by two days ago. Unexpected, unwarranted, but still it was welcomed she supposed. It would not be long before she gave birth and dedicated herself towards motherhood rather than keeping an eye on Daelia long after she needed to be watched. She loved her sister, naturally. She also understood that was just how a family operated and that Nytalia was just doing what she thought was the right thing.

It seemed that after her initial uneasiness that her sister had been in the company of a human, it appeared that Nytalia had become interested in the whole affair. So much so that she did her own research into the whereabouts of Adam Ackerson. It was significantly more successful than Daelia's own half-hearted attempt. She had somehow found his contact information within days of their last encounter. Even if it times it felt like it was a bit much for her to handle.

Honestly, Daelia did not know just how to feel about it. On one hand a small part of her wanted to hug her sister for finding this information out. But mostly now she was now weary. No longer did she have an excuse not to get in contact with Adam Ackerson. So now for the past two days, she would sit near her holoprojector and holomessenger and try to figure just how she was going to go about contacting him.

Perhaps it would have just been easier for her to forget the whole affair. It was just one stupid night, where she trusted her sister to go out and now it snowballed into a whole matter she was no longer sure she even wanted to explore. Nytalia's encouragements could have just been a front. A means to find Daelia some new company to... well... pawn her off onto. Perhaps it was not quite that sinister, but Daelia could not deny that Nytalia must have had some sort of ulterior motivation. Both she and Jorah were not exactly on the best of terms. Perhaps it was his request so that Daelia did not disturb them while they adjusted to parenthood.

Or… perhaps she was just being paranoid again…

Exhaling, Daelia buried her face in one hand, her head tilted backwards to drink a glass of water. She had to admit that there was a strong possibility that she was just being pessimistic to a fault. She did find Adam interesting, and he was interested in her enough to at least try to give her his number before she fled. Perhaps she was just overthinking things again. It tended to occur when she was placed in a highly stressful situation in which she was not 100 percent certain of the outcome.

Picking up the handful of her prescription pills she took on a daily basis, Daelia swallowed them and took another drink. Her hand waved over her holomessenger system and turned on _call only_ mode and tapped in the service number of Adam Ackerson's line. She could handle a call, but a face to face connection would be a little tougher on her for the moment… one thing at the time.

As the call connected, Daelia fought the overriding urge to hang up to the best of her ability. Her body was shaking as her mind kicked into overdrive. She was feeling far too sick already…

"_Hello?"_

Daelia's fear and illness froze up as the familiar voice ringed through her head. This was no long a theoretical conversation. This was the real thing and she was already freezing up!

"_Is anyone there?"_ Adam Ackerson's voice called from the other end. _"Do you have a connection problem?"_

It took all of her willpower, but not only did Daelia not hang up her line; she found it in herself to speak.

"No it's fine…" she managed to say, her eyes shut tightly. "This is… well, Daelia... Daelia'Vael. Is this Adam…? Adam Ackerson?"

A pause greeted her at first. It lasted no more than five seconds, but those five seconds felt like forever for her.

"Yes it is," Adam humoured her with note of amusement. "You know, I was afraid I'd never hear from you again, Miss Vael. You fled rather quickly. If I did anything to offend you, then please accept my apology."

_His apology?_ It was not Adam who ran out without a second thought. It was not Adam who tuned her out… at least as far she recalled it hadn't been. She remained silent as she put some thought into the evening which had occurred a week and a half ago. No, as far she knew he was in the clear.

"You… you didn't offend me," Daelia assured the human ruefully. "I was just being stupid. When I'm stressed, I blank out. It is no one's fault but my own."

On the other end of the connection, Daelia heard Adam sigh.

_Well that's good to know," _Adam replied, sounding genuinely relieved._ "You know, your disappearing act had gotten me all worked up the past few days? I'm glad that I didn't make you feel uncomfortable-"_

"_**Ithinkweshouldshouldgooutsomewhere!"**_ Daelia suddenly blurted out, cutting Adam off from what he was trying to convey to her.

There was a long pause that greeted Dalia's explosion of words. Daelia buried her face into her arm and did her utmost not to verbally scream at herself for what she said. She said that she was going to approach this casually! She said that she was going to retain her composure! She was not a child! She was not going to speak like a child!

There was a small silence then a sudden, incredulous laugh that escaped Adam. Daelia's face burned purple as attempted to rack her brain with an excuse to simply hang up the phone and runaway as far as she could from the Reich… preferably to the Mars colonies.

"_I beg your pardon?" _Adam asked as his laughter vanished, his tone airy.

Swallowing her fear and desires to vanish off the face of the Earth, Daelia took a deep breath and steadied herself. She was not here to fold to her fears. She wanted to meet Adam again. He was the first person who she found interesting in quite some time. She was not about to blow it now.

"I... well, if you're not busy, I think we should… you know… go out on a da... date…. Date thing, _whatever_" Daelia managed to stammer out finally "I'm so sorry about before, I don't do this often… at all, really."

"_Well, since you're dictating the terms, why don't you choose a time and place, and I'll meet you there?"_ Adam spoke again right away. He sounded patient… like a Father. _"It can be sort of a casual get together if you're more comfortable with that then a… well, a date. We can determine more clearly if there is something there and plan something out more formal if you'd like."_

_Get together_. Although Adam could not see it, Daelia found herself nodding. To say she was relieved that he wanted it a casual meeting was an understatement. It took a whole lot of weight off of her shoulders without the word _date _attached to the meeting. It helped her feel a lot more comfortable, that was for sure. Keelah, it felt good to find that Adam was like her... well, sort of like her.

"Well, what about now?" Daelia spoke again. This time, however, her tone was much braver now that she had this new term to use in place of '_date_'. "...like today I mean. Or… would that be too soon for you?"

There was a briefest of pauses. Daelia closed her eyes and silently berated herself yet again for jumping the gun this time. She had perhaps been a little _too_ overconfident now. Foolish of her, absolutely foolish!

"_I was expecting to hear from you a week ago; so sure, today would be great… I need to run a few errands right now however, but how about we meet for lunch?"_ Adam requested, cutting her off from her self-flagellation._ "Contact me when you have a place in mind and I'll be there… unless you need a ride as well, and I'll pick you up. Okay?"_

Daelia opened her eyes back up in surprise. She wasn't exactly an expert on tone, but from her experiences with her sister, it sounded as though Adam Ackerson sounded somewhat excited by the prospects of having an outing with her. It was almost… thrilling. She wasn't exactly a woman who got a lot of attention; and if she had, she more or less did not notice it until now.

"Yes… yes, of course," Daelia managed to not stutter. "I don't need a ride, I mean, but t-thank you. I will call you later. Okay?"

Daelia disconnected the line before Adam had a chance to say goodbye and slumped down onto her couch, her hand covering her face once again. All things considered, that call had gone much better than she had feared it would have gone. She spoke, clarified, even led the conversation at one or two points; and most importantly of all only took her twelve hours to gather her courage and make the call.

Pulling her hand off her forehead, she looked up to the clock on her wall. She had about three hours to figure just where she would meet him for lunch and what to wear. She had to no time to commiserate about the call now; she still had a lot of work left to handle.

**…**

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

Trudging through the muddy dirt road, Generalmajor Jochen von Hoch turned back to look at the gaggle of defence minister's following both he and the leader of this this outing, Generalleutnant Erich-Rüdiger von Manstein.

Placing civilians in charge of national defence was such an embarrassment to behold. With an exception to Sergei Chernov and Svetia Kurylenko -the ministers of defence for the Russian Federation and Ukraine respectively, none of the western European Ministers were dressed to be out on the front line training maneuvers. The only one who was underdressed, but perfectly cheerful was Leon Christpofle, the Breton Minister. Strange lot, the Bretons…

Perhaps the minister's had almost all been under the impression that Manstein would have been holding a Luncheon to talk about troop commitments to the PEAG – Pan European Army Group. PEAG was sort of a euphemism that was more or less made up on the spot by Von Manstein`s Grandfather in the days leading up to his retirement.

The late Erich von Manstein had held a firm conviction that it should not be just German blood shedding in the quarian`s war. He was a firm believer in quid pro quo. If the mainland Europeans and Scandinavians ate the quarian fruit of technology, then there had to be a price to be paid for it. So the quarian leadership took Manstein`s advice.

By the early 1950`s every neighbor of Germany watched in a awe and envy as German cities were cleaned up and rebuilt in record time, crops flourished and increased, production streamlined into a machine that made America look like Japan. By the end of the 1960`s, every European nation but Switzerland and the United Kingdom individually signed treaties and contacts with the quarians for technology access. Then as the technology boosted their nation`s wealth a hundred fold, they quietly downplayed or hid the real price.

But the truth had ways of catching up to the public. On March 17, 1995 then of the Quarian Mandate Lead Minister Wale`Rautara announced that the quarian nation was beginning her mobilization and that all clauses of the quarian mandate`s deals were to be honoured in a timely fashion, or face punitive action. It was just a nice way to say that quarians would descend from orbit and begin a campaign of rapid and unexpected deindustrialization, which would involve beam weaponry and a whole lot of grief.

_Rapid and unexpected deindustrialization… _Christ, Jochen really had to give credit where credit was due; his brother Reinhardt… _John_, whatever he was calling himself, really knew how to coin a viciously sly euphemism. It sort of came with his natural ability to con the greatest minds in the Reich to work for him.

So now that the gloves were officially off for the quarian government and a slow building mobilization of the German-Quarian alliance begun. They could ill afford any further politeness as they showed since 1943. They were on the cusp of returning back to the galaxy that shunned them. They needed all the manpower they could get, and so despite the European-wide protests that have continued to this day –funded in large part by the Americans, the Soviet Union and the Italian and Hungary led Fascist Union of Nations- the pursuit for aggressive cohesion to the Crusade continued.

The group paused as they watched the equivalent of a battalion of geth platforms march by them in perfect unison. Naturally, the sight of the geth made the civilians nervous. To be perfectly honest, it made Jochen uneasy as well when he recalled all the horror stories his Grandparents and Mother taught him, but it was as Manstein had explained earlier, the geth platforms were inert, controlled by human and quarian operators a few kilometres away. They were not the autonomous menace as what waited for them beyond the Veil.

"As you can see we have built geth platforms from the information we gathered. Four divisions worth of these platforms was built with remote operators controlling them," Manstein once again explained to them, the attention of the group turning once again to look at him. "We send out only one division of our own men to simulate the expected response of the geth once the land invasions commence. No matter how many troops we can project into the geth controlled quarian space, all conservative estimate that there will be between 10 and as high as a hundred platforms for every soldier we have."

"This war is essentially a repeat of Barbarossa decades prior, but this time all of our focus is on one singular enemy," Jochen elaborated as the group finally relaxed long enough to turn their backs from the passing geth. "With your help, the war effort will be even more successful once Wehrmacht doctrine is taught to your officers and men. The last time we allowed too many mismatched nations march with us into the Soviet Union in 1941; it nearly spelt doom for all of Europe. While in the end we won, the first three years were plagued with indecision and varying troop capability. Never again can this happen; especially not for a war of this magnitude."

Hoch fell silent as he and Manstein turned to the dozen troop transports, Panzerkampfwagen XIII Kaiser Tiger and the new Jagdhund 170mm self-propelled artillery vehicles. The two Generals snapped to attention and saluted the passing convoy moving to their insertion point. In near unison the troops stood up from their seats and returned the gesture to the group. No command was necessary from their commanders. It was just a spontaneous reaction to the sight of two soldiers from two famous soldiering families.

Behind the two officers standing at attention, a throat cleared interrupting the brief ceremony. Jochen turned around and found that the source of the interruption to be Alain Duceppe, the Defense Minister of the Reunified State of France and more or less the self-appointed leader of this group of contrarian cunts... counties who would take the technology, but fight to backtrack on the deal.

"And what stops your people from investing in an army of those machines to be sent across the ocean of space to fight on your behalf?" Duceppe demanded. He stepped forward to stare at Manstein and Hoch. "Why send good men and women to fight and die for this cause when you have the technology to fill the gaps?"

Neither Manstein, nor Jochen had the chance to answer the remark.

"Because," a familiar voice called out to the gathering. "If the geth knew of what was coming their way, the thing they would want the most was for their creators make the same mistake. It would hand the war over to them before it even so much as begun."

**…**

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

Unbuckling the seatbelt of his Mercedes-Benz G class series SUV, Adam Ackerson climbed out of his vehicle and slammed the door behind him, only pausing for a moment to look into his driver side mirror to make sure his hair was not too disheveled. It might not have been a date, but he certainly wasn't about to come off as shabby.

He had a whole list of things he had to do today: Take Amala to her Ballet lessons, Grocery shop, help organize a birthday party for Charlotte Sterner –one of Amala's friends, whom he owed a favour to her mother, Karin (an incessant flirt, who was clearly a bored housewife) and then take Amala to her afternoon held Kindergarten. It was all just another day in the life of a parent. At least it had been when he got a peculiar phone call from Daelia'Vael.

It did not take a genius to figure out that Daelia had HOCCD. Having spent the better part of three years in relatively close proximity with Galina, he was well aware of the signs and, by the time Daelia had called, he was more or less proven right. That or she had a severe social anxiety which kept her in a perpetual fear of others.

Whatever it was, Adam was not about to draw attention to it. He might have been rusty at dating, but the last time he checked, asking another person about why she was jumpy, distant and a terrible conversationalist during their first encounter. He would pay the quirks no attention for the time being and if today was a successful date, he would wait until she was comfortable with broaching the subject.

Just as he would have to be comfortable with admitting that he was a 28 year old widower single father. He nearly had a heart attack when Amala tried to answer the call. He had to shoo her back into her room and take the call outside.

For now, deception sort of was a necessity. At this point all Adam could do was bury his head in the sand and try to pretend that he was single like her; at least until there was no more room or time to admit it. Christ… not even on the first date in five years and he was already feeling like a shitty father that he would pretend that Amala simply did not exist.

His attempt at keeping Amala out of the picture for now was not malicious or callous –at least that was what he thought-, but it was a selfish act. It was his first truly selfish act he had committed since he found out he was going to be a single father, really. It was as Hanala said. He just did not want to be defined by his child. Amala was an important factor… no, the single most important factor to whether he could be in a relationship again; but for now, just for now, he wanted a chance to have a little fun… even if the subject of his fascination was a little…. peculiar.

Fixing both his dress jacket and t-shirt nervously, Adam dropped his hands as soon as he noticed the figure of a quarian woman standing in front of the coffee shop; her back was turned to him. She looked as though she was a ghost. Her dark hair was pulled back tightly in a ponytail. Her head was lowered as she appeared to have been staring at her feet.

"_Daelia?"_ Adam decided to call out before he actually joined her.

The woman turned around at almost a neck snapping speed. Her eyes were wide as she met his. Sure enough it was Daelia'Vael. She looked… different then the last time they met. It was a good sort of different, to be honest. She was wearing a simple white and black V-neck shirt and slacks. It was a far cry from the extravagant dress she wore during their first encounter. Gone were her heels, placing the woman at just over five and a half feet tall to his six.

He watched as she very slowly relaxed from her paranoid state and reluctantly offered him a faint –but still nervous- smile. Adam could not help but notice that it did not quite meet her eyes. She was apparently very much still on edge; very much living in some sort of fear that she was on the verge of fouling up. She looked very much close to bolting on him.

Taking pity on her, Adam stepped forward slowly. He too held his light grin on his face for her as he finished closing the gap between them. He stopped as soon as she took a step back.

"I would have arrived sooner if I knew that you were early," he apologized to her immediately.

Daelia tilted her head. Her hands fidgeted as though she was extraordinarily nervous to be caught up in this sort of encounter. Too be fair to her, so was he if he was being honest with himself. Yet again he found himself apologizing to her even if it was not necessary. It was his little tick, really.

"It's… fine," Daelia reassured him, her voice coming off as a little anxious. "I like to be a little early to... well I guess to scope things out…"

Adam's grin widened.

"Are you the secret police?" he dryly asked her. "Or are you a BND agent?"

It was quite possibly the single stupidest thing that Adam could have possibly ever said. He watched as the poor woman hopped in place, her eyes grew large as she gasped at the suggestion that she was somehow tied to the Intelligence services because she was punctual and spoke like a spy.

It was Adams turn to blanch, and then went a shade of red. _Dad humour_... He was using actual dad humour on a woman. What the hell was wrong with him!? The concept of him stooping to that low was mortifying to say the least. He had to dial it back, play it cool, like the days before he was a Father… before he was a husband, even.

Settling his embarrassment, Adam looked up and emitted a nervous laugh as he looked at Daelia properly. She did not seem to notice the sort of slip up he had made. Thank God that had seemed to have been the case...

"I'm… well… I was teasing you, I'm sorry," Adam apologized immediately, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm going to confess that I haven't exactly had much time to be in the presence of new people over the past few years. I might be a little rusty at it."

Daelia looked back up. Once again her head tilted peculiarly as she appeared to have been inspecting him. In a sudden and small series of jerks, Daelia nodded her head, accepting his explanation as well as his apology.

"That's… that's fine. I'm… well, I'm not particularly adept to reading the cues of others…" Daelia admitted as she lowered his eyes from his. "I mean… I would like to, I just… foul up. I knew you were jesting, but the impulse to protect my name is… strong, to say the least."

"Alright then, I'll take that into account," Adam replied, happy that it was smoothed over so easily. "Should we sit? Or would you rather want to go inside?"

Adam fell silent as Daelia glanced at the patio which he had been gesturing to. It was a warm day, and it seemed as though she longed to try it. But he watched her twitch and she shook her head as though the concept was far too daring. Daelia's hands reached up to stroke her tied back hair and she quietly walked through the open doors of the coffee shop, Adam in lockstep next to her.

As they ordered their drinks and bakery goods, Daelia found the two of them a quiet little corner booth for the two of them to sit with little to no interaction with the other patrons. As she noticed Adam standing next to her, she emitted a weak smile and sat down. Adam did the same, sitting just across from her.

They remained silent for the most part, making small talk on occasion. Mostly it was a very comfortable silence between the two of them. It more or less remained that way until the young looking quarian waitress placed the tray filled with items for both quarian and human consumption that the conversation started to pick up. He asked about the riots that unfolded the night they first met. She seemed to have been unscathed by them, although her neighbourhood was attacked. It was sort of a given being that she was quarian living in a quarian neighbourhood. The way the far leftist youth scapegoated the quarians as their great oppressors. It was a foolish concept… unbelievably foolish.

As Daelia stirred sweetener into her tea, she glanced back up to Adam. She appeared somewhat troubled.

"How did my sister get your contact information?" she asked as she set down the spoon. "Did you contact her directly? I… I asked and she said she wouldn't say…"

Adam shook his head as he set his own tea down.

"No, and frankly you didn't give me a lot to search into," he returned, lightly teasing her. "I asked… John… _John_…I'm going to kill him. He said he would keep his nose out of it."

Daelia's brow arched as the sudden annoyance tinged his words. John Hoch… of course he would go back on his promise and directly interfere with his affairs, as though they were his business! This was so goddamn typical of him! Why did he trust him to do the right thing!

Adam took a deep breath. The last thing he wanted to do was to stir up drama right now.

"My employer… John Hoch," he carefully explained, his tone remaining as neutral as he could keep it. "He likes to take a personal interest in the sort of things that aren't of his concern. I asked for his help to find you, but I figured he wouldn't get involved too deeply. It seems that he paid your sister a personal visit about us..."

Daelia could only blink. It took exactly three seconds for Adam to groan and rub his forehead.

"Your boss is John Hoch?" Daelia spoke blankly. "You're telling me that John Hoch paid my sister a visit about _me_?"

She did not stutter or strain her voice. It was an empty response. One rooted in an overriding shock to her system. Adam, who more or less lived and breathed in the shadow of John Hoch had to remind himself that having a Billionaire Industrialist calling on your sibling about dates wasn't exactly an everyday thing for most… well… everyone, really.

But that was so right up John's alley – shocking people in new, exciting ways as a kick. Having a man who lived and breathed for science discussing the love life of one of his employees was just another source of amusement. If this… thing… between Daelia and himself were to become something more substantial than a coffee date, then she would soon have to get used to being under the microscope that John Hoch's attention was.

"Yes… Yes Hoch did. And, well, technically I suppose he is my boss… technically…" Adam finally spoke, deciding to puff himself up… just a little. "He pays me, but I don't exactly answer to him. I'm sort of a contractor and he's my client. I'm his parent's personal physician, you see."

"You're a private care physician to Joachim and Hanala Hoch?" Daelia repeated incredulously, clearly a role that she had found greatly interesting. "That… ahhh… that sounds _fascinating_. The… the things they saw, the stories they must be able to tell…"

Adam nodded. Yes, the stories those two could tell. For the most part they were horror stories. The sort of things Adam didn't think he had the stomach to listen to, even if he did do his stint in the Wehrmacht himself. The Germanic Civil War and the Quarian Intervention were sordid affairs. Even destroying the Nazis did not make men like Joachim Hoch's hands clean for their complicity. That moral scrubbing was still happening five… nearly six decades later.

"Yeah, I figured that would be the case, but they are intensely private about their pre-retirement life," Adam returned, his voice lowering an octave. "Lots of ghosts and skeletons in the closet I suppose... lots of death and loss. How they got out of the things they were involved with is a miracle…"

Adam trailed off and berated his tactlessness. He exhaled grimly and sipped his tea. He watched as Daelia took his cue and imitated his movements. Her bright eyes flickered up to look at him for a moment before they casted back down. Silently he put down Joachim and Hanala Hoch as topics not to broach on encounters with people. The subject matter was not good spirited.

"Sorry," he apologized without warning. "I got a little dark there. I did not mean to."

Swallowing a mouthful of her dextro-compatible _plundergebäck_, Daelia wiped her mouth with her napkin and met his eyes again. This time she did not look away.

"You… don't have to apologize so often," Daelia assured him.

Adam could not help but chuckle and shake his head. It certainly did not take Daelia long to notice one of his more annoying traits he held onto: the incessant desire to keep everyone help regardless of whether he was to blame for the trouble or not. He was a German citizen for over a decade now and he still was struggling to learn the art of curtness.

"I'm sorry…" Adam blurted out, his hand smacking his face in mock frustration. "See? It's sort of kneejerk reaction to apologize, even when it is beyond my control. No matter how much I integrate into German society. Germans are curt and don't mince words, my need to placate is hardwired into my Canadian roots. I fear I'll never fit in!"

For the first time since they met, Daelia allowed a small nervous laugh escape her. She sounded almost at ease as Adam joined in her in the laughter. Slowly she sighed, still smiling. She lowered her eyes to her tea and took a sip. Adam leaned backwards into his seat and enjoyed the silence, his hands picking apart his muffin as he held his eyes on the shy younger woman.

It was a strange feeling to find, especially so suddenly; but for the first time in a long, long time, Adam felt… comfortable. Like he was somewhere he belonged. He was not an imposition or someone else's amusement. For the first time in a long while, he was in the presence of someone who was equally as unsure and ill placed as he was. It seemed that both Daelia and he were outcasts in the German machine. Both doing their best to fit in, but never quite able to acclimatize to the societies they tried to fit into…

Chewing his muffin, Adam decided to enjoy the silence as Daelia seemed to do.

**…**

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

Finally… a politician was here who could speak on the matter… One who wasn't a complete incompetent like the most of the others gathered before the two young Generals.

Jochen inwardly relaxed as he watched the newly elected First Minister of the Quarian Mandate Gan'Yulaani approached the gathering. His expression was receptive to the politicians. He brushed by Manstein and Hoch and stepped between them and Duceppe. His hand held out to the disgruntled Frenchman. Alain looked at the hand for a moment and took it.

"All records and recent information gathering has time and time again shown that the geth can hijack all forms of long range and advanced signals broadcasts," Yulaani pressed onwards as he let go of his hand. "The last thing we want to do is add to their numbers, or give away the element of surprise. As good as our scientists are at designing signals, the geth will naturally attempt to break it."

Smiling for a moment, Gan'Yulaani turned his attention to Manstein and offered his hand to him next. When he turned to Hoch, there was no professional handshake like the others. Instead the First Minister reached out and shook the young general by his shoulders as though he were still a boy. The playful reaction was enough to make Manstein snort derisively next to him and the politicians to look confused by the First Minister's affection to the junior general in the group.

It was one of the more annoying traits of Yulaani; a quarian who grew up as schoolboy chums with Reinhardt and… well, Gerald as well. When the eldest boys hit 13 and 12, Mother and Father moved south and sent the eldest children to school in the mandate. For Gerald and Haeva, it was to explore their quarian heritage, for Reinhardt and Erika it was to better understand where the other half of his family came from. Reinhardt learned Khelish without the assistance of a translator in a matter of months. He and Erika quickly became a source of great entertainment and novelty for the quarian children he went to school with.

It wasn't long before the naturally ambitious Reinhardt and the always loyal Gerald had a pack of quarian teenagers eating out of the palm of his hand. Gan'Yulaani was Reinhardt's best friend during school, until Gerald decided to be the first one to follow in Father's footsteps and joined the Heer before the draft letter was even mailed.

Reinhardt more or less despised the concept of military service to the Reich and Kaiser. It was a belief that Father was actually rather proud of –Having a son who did not want military life. His intentions were that he would stay in the Mandate where he would study in one of their universities with another human who had come to the Mandate in her senior year –Alexandria McKellan. But Reinhardt being Reinhardt, he postponed his education and instead followed his Brother's lead, joining the Heer as well.

Despite Reinhardt leaving the Mandate, Reinhardt and Gan stayed in touch until the Soviets crossed over… well… tunnelled under the DMZ and destroyed the garrisons guarding the 2000 kilometre frontier between the Russian Federation and the Soviet Union and touched off the Third Germanic-Soviet War. Gerald was included amongst the dead.

After Gerald's death, Reinhardt disappeared for 8 years. It was no state secret where and who Reinhardt signed up with. He ran off to join Otto Skorzeny and Ernst Kaltenbrunner's Paladin Group. The truth remained obscured from the public. The official story was that Reinhardt was sent on assignment by Father and the Wehrmacht Council to break up the organization, which was causing all sorts of chaos around the world. The truth was that there was no assignment. Devastated by the death of Gerald, Reinhardt went AWOL from the hospital and crossed over the Vichy French/Spanish border and went looking for Paladin Group.

When Paladin Group was destroyed in 1978, Reinhardt, now John Hoch came home and begun setting up his company funded on blood money. Gan was one of the first people he contacted. Gan was a struggling Candidate, trying to win a seat on the Conclave in an election year. Within days of their reunion, Reinhardt produced his dual citizenship papers, became a registered donor and Gan'Yulaani found his election campaign bankrolled.

But money in politics was not surprising part. What stood out was there were no strings attached to the money. Gan's record spoke for itself; at no point had there been anything that showed collaboration between the two parties. It was just like the old days. Reinhardt saw his friend in need and he helped. It was rather… noble. It was a real step in the right direction. It allowed Gan to be a crusader without special interests groups keeping him from doing what was right. Conclave member moved up to Minister of Foreign Affairs and Minister of Foreign Affairs put him on the path to First Minister.

At 45, Yulaani was the youngest leader of the quarian people since the disestablishment of the Admiralty Board. It would be he who represented the return of the quarian people to Citadel Space. It would be a monumental moment to rub the return of the proud Quarian race in the face of the aliens who allowed their near extinction. Well, either that or lead the people to their doom in the event of a failure of the campaign...

"I apologize for my lateness, Generals, Ministers," Yulaani greeted everyone as he turned from Hoch. "I am afraid I got caught up in last minute meetings with the conclave."

"Thank you for the clarification on the matter, Minister Yulaani," Von Manstein was the first to speak. "This danger of geth infiltration into our network not only makes organic military presence necessary, but _Ausftragtakik_ –or mission-type tactics a vital necessity to the doctrine of the Wehrmacht. The commanders on the ground are given a general order by their superior officer. How they set about it is at the prerogative of the officers and men in the action."

A lone, dark chuckle broke out amongst the group.

"A tactic that made the actions of the Wehrmacht in the nations they invaded permissible, no matter how horrifying they were," the Danish defence minister spoke a mutter. "It helped the Generals sleep better at night, right?"

As the non-Germanic ministers laughed at the shot, Jochen twisted around to defend his predecessors from the Dane's insults. He was stopped however by Manstein who gave him a warning look and a clasp on his shoulder. Manstein warning was clear. Now was not the time to cause an international incident The Pan European alliance that was the European Union had to become a military alliance as well as an economic one. Even if the Danes were lucky to provide perhaps a division, they still needed all the boots on the ground that they could muster for the inevitable battles to smash the geth networks across the Perseus Veil…

If their loyalty had a price tag that included insults, then Jochen supposed he had to keep his temper in check. He would not forget it however. If they agreed to the terms, it would be Danish boots that hit the ground fire first if he was placed in charge of them. It was high time for the Scandinavians to relearn what sacrifice truly meant. It was an education which only the Finns understood these days.

The thundering of artillery about a three kilometres from their location made all the ministers end their conversation and turn away to look in the direction of the shells being dropped. Yulaani clapped his hands together and gestured to the Hanomag that had come to a halt in front of them.

"And so the operation is commencing," Minister Yulaani spoke happily. "Please make your way to the observation line. The Generals will be with you shortly."

Minister Yulaani, Manstein and Hoch remained still and watched as the soldiers helped the ministers climb into the back of the Hanomag. It took all of Hoch's efforts not to explode until the hatch closed and the vehicle started moving.

"Western Europeans, Scandinavians… insufferable liberal _bastards_ the whole lot of them!" Jochen suddenly exploded as soon as the Hanomag was out their sight. He rounded back to Minister Yulaani and added. "Give us your toys but don't expect us to honour our agreements! They should have been sensible and listened to United Kingdom instead. It would have saved us the agonizing headache."

The rage was enough to make Erich-Rüdiger explode in wild laughter. He slapped his knee and twisted around in place. Gan'Yulaani was smiling as well, but instead of laughing, he reached over and slapped Jochen on the shoulder once again. Jochen groaned. He could not find the humor in the shady attitude of the European leadership.

"Jochen, my boy you are taking this far _too_ personally!" Gan retorted brightly. "Politicians have to play their games, but politicians in charge of national defense affairs are by far the most sympathetic of the lot. It will be up to them to sell this war to the public. It is their legacies at stake; the blood that is shed for quarian interests is on them."

As Jochen grumbled under his breath about the merits of just what the First Minister was telling him, he could not help but still feel frustrated by the situation. Yes, it was only nature that the ministers were leery about sending their troops to combat a threat millions of light years away. Still he was a firm believer in keeping promises.

"This alliance is a shaky one, even without the threat your predecessor had issued to them," Manstein sighed as he pulled off his cap to wipe the condensation forming on his forehead. "I would not doubt they would wane and break the moment that the first casualty reports flood in. Let's face it; German dominance over Europe has led to complacency. There is no threat that they need to deal with. They are the Remora to the shark."

The First Minister tightened his coat.

"I know, but do not worry; I have an answer to that one," Gan reassured both Generals. "You see I was not in a meeting with the conclave, but with the Kaiser and the Wehrmacht council… Your father included, Erich."

Both Generals turned their eyes up to the first minister. The involvement of the Kaiser, the Wehrmacht Council and Chief of Staff of the Wehrmacht Generalfeldmarschall Rüdiger von Manstein meant only one thing…

"As we speak, a war is brewing… a quick engagement that should serve to shake the rest of Europe out of its lethargic state," Gan informed the two young generals. "Inside a few months, we will begin the process of dismantling the Fascist Union of Nations and at simultaneous time, the Soviet Union. It is time to bring Southeastern Europe into our hands and Russia back in control of her Eastern Territories. "

It took all of Jochen's effort not to demand an answer why High Command thought it was wise to declare a two front war? Sure, the Fascist Union was fractured and had no allies in America or the UK and would be rolled over in a matter of weeks, months if they go the hard way and ask permission of the United States to invade Argentina, Chile, Cuba, half of Central America… They were weak regimes, soft powers that the United States more or less worked with the Fascist Union of Nations to keep under control.

The Union and their paramilitary group Paladin kept Central and South America from collapsing to Communism following the grand exodus of Russian communists after the collapse of the First Soviet Union and withdrawal in 1948. Those who were captured by the Germans and quarians and could no longer get into the reformed Soviet Union fled around the world to start communist causes and uprisings around the world. Africa was undeniable. The quarians had begun a process of decolonization and went about educating the Africa Union about responsible, transparent governments. South East Asia and the Americas were made all the more attractive.

While the United States, Germany and China set about the arduous task of cleaning Asia in order to keep the young Chinese Republic safe, South America was ripe for the taking once the Fascist landed In Argentina and declared the country a new parent following their disposal of Juan Perón once he proved too unreliable. That whole goddamn country became one giant Paladin Group playground. Jesus, the stories his brother told about it…

Jochen sighed. This was something that should have been dealt with before he was born. This was why no one could leave issues unanswered. It was one of the tenets that Jochen passed onto his children. From now on the next generation of Von Hoch's would not commit half measures like his Father had.

"First Minister, are you telling us that the only way to stop civil unrest and the grumbling of our neighbours is to throw Europe back into another _war_?" Manstein quipped, "It is now little wonder why the rest of the world looks at German-Quarian union like we're insane."

"_A two front war…" _Jochen amended for his Prussian friend, his face contorted into an expression of disbelief as he too pulled off his cap. "I thought we had learned from the last two damn times that happened! A war against the communists could take decades! The Soviet Union is a hermit state which spends 30 percent of its GDP on defence! All intelligence reports indicate 90 percent of their one hundred and fifty plus million population are military trained. This… this is _madness_, Minister…"

Yulaani's mouth formed into a smile.

"Under normal circumstances, that would be something to fret over. But that phase war is getting full fleet treatment," Yulaani replied with an audacious shrug. "It was determined by Grand Admiral Malu'Valao that it was time for training the both the Defense Force Fleet and the Raumstreitflotte in the art of planetary bombardment… Just one good kick and I guarantee it all comes crumbling down."

Leaving Von Hoch speechless, Yulaani put his hands into his pocket and followed the route. Manstein glanced to his friend and colleague and offered him an amused chuckle and quickly followed behind the First Minister, leaving the still agitated Jochen behind, shaking his head and kicking his boot in the mud.

"_Yeah…" _Jochen muttered as he followed behind the two._"That worked out well for the last guy who said that."_

**…**

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

_Two hours._ Daelia had somehow sustained a two hour outing with a person outside of her family and outside of her work life as well.

It was a huge personal achievement on her part, and while she wasn't exactly an element in the conversational portion of the interaction, she DID manage to keep up with everything Adam Ackerson had to say. Learning the little bits and pieces about him was fascinating. Not only was he a Physician but he was one to the Hoch family, he was a foreigner like her, he was polite, perhaps overly so, but she did not mind that either!

Perhaps Nytalia was onto something about making an effort to pay attention. She had learned so much in the past little while that time flew by and most importantly of all, she actually felt comfortable… even at ease! They had their awkward moments at the beginning, but overall everything went well in the end. As they paid up their bill, the two of them walked out of the café side by side. This Daelia felt much lighter then she had two hours ago. She felt as though she was not interacting with a complete stranger now. That by itself was a real weight off her shoulders in itself.

Next time… if there was a next, she would make a conscious effort to contribute. She was a firm believer in fairness, and now this was the second time in which Adam had to keep the ball rolling between them…

"Would you like a ride home?" she heard him ask. Daelia glanced away from her feet and looked to Adam, who was gesturing to the Sports Utility Vehicle he apparently drove.

Daelia smiled privately. It was a tempting offer, but she just could not take it not yet at least. She did not want to be too much of a hassle already. She would take a Taxi back home; where undoubtedly Nytalia was waiting, or on standby via the communicator.

"I… no… no, thank you, Adam… I appreciate the offer." she stammered out with a faint smile for him.

As they paused on the sidewalk, Daelia threw her hand up in the air to start to wave a Taxi down. She paused and silently berated herself. She was about to do it yet again: leave without as much as a goodbye to him or even a plan for a continuation of all of this. Already she was acting like a damn fool yet again. At least this time she had his contact information. It wouldn't have been so bad, but still, she really needed to stop fleeing the moment she had a chance to…

"Am I really this repulsive?" she heard Adam remark.

The words snapped through Daelia and nearly made her round back to furiously defend herself from his observation. She paused, however, recognized the tone. The humorous jabbing that Adam possessed which pushed her buttons in a good way…

"No… no, you're not… You have been extraordinary patient with me, Adam," Daelia admitted as she turned back to face him. "I did… enjoy this… quite a bit more than I thought I would have, if I'm being honest."

Adam bared his teeth in a wide grin.

"Well so did I." he confessed.

As air caught in her throat, all she could do was make a rather strange choking sound for a moment. Her hand smacked her forehead. She jumped slightly as Adam reached out and took her by the wrist. Carefully he pulled the hand back off her face and placed it back against her side. Embarrassed, Daelia exhaled and titled her head to one side.

"I'm… free this weekend," she blurted out. Daelia took a breath and added. "I was hoping… I was hoping that you liked this enough to… well… _continue_ this into an actual… you know… date."

She watched as Adam placed his hands into his pocket as he regarded her carefully. Silent, Adam nodded his head.

"Well, I would like that…" he confessed to her. "But a fair warning to you," he amended. "On an actual date, I'm going to be asking you questions. Your silence has been acceptable for now, but I feel that the conversation is very one sided. I would like to get to know you, Daelia'Vael."

Feeling rather nervous as her position was more or less stated word for word by Adam, Daelia inclined her head to one side.

"I know… I mean, I understand," Daelia agreed. "Thank you again for your patience... and call me, please…. When you have the chance…"

As Adam nodded, Daelia reached out, and in a moment of daring, touched his forearm. Adam glanced at it, but thankfully did not react. She really wasn't sure what she could have done if he escalated the physical contact beyond what she managed to do. As she let go, she stepped back and waved her hand back into the air for the taxi.

Yes… today, it seemed, had been a very good day.

**…**

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

**Sorry for the delay. I got sick for the past two weeks and barely touched the chapter. I'm still a little out of it, so if there are more errors then usual, you have my excuses. Then when I begun to recover I got myself engrossed into Downton Abbey of all things. Now I've got stupid plotlines about Joachim Hoch terrorizing a British Aristocratic home while he's in England collecting POWs stuck in my head -He and his gang of uncultured krauts taking over their home while he conducts his business.**

**I always said I was going to do a 1943-44 Joachim Hoch in England one shot… perhaps that'll be the route.**

**May have noticed that there isn't a whole lot of Amala Ackerson written into the story yet… I feel that the character is too young at the moment to be interesting. However this era spans from 1998 to 2015. There will be large time gaps in this series and Amala will grow up and that is when things get cool for her.**

**No previews this time. All I can say is more demented romance and more learning. A codex would be so much easier, but a Codex just feels lazy to me. I like giving in-verse exploration. Perhaps if it gets too confusing I will categorize everything into a single go-to place.**

**Thanks for reading. Back to Downton Abbey for me!  
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